Destinies Fulfilled
by Lelila1
Summary: (AU for Season 6) Buffy is sent away to investigate a vampire gang. All alone in a new place, she runs unexpectantly into Angel. With her life at stake and a Prophecy to prevent, they must learn to set the past aside and trust again... love again. (B/A!)
1. Chapter One

**~*One*~**

_"I will remember you,_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by,_

_Weep not for the memories."_

_-- Sarah McLachlan_

She was tired, wet and cold. And to top it off, she was royally pissed off. This was not the night be messing with the Slayer.

Buffy walked down the quiet streets of Sunnydale, her eyes held a glaze of annoyance as she glared at the persistent rain. She sighed, looking at the flashes of blinking lights and decorations that adorned the lawns and houses of every resident. With Christmas just around the corner, everyone in town was getting into a festive mood. Her friends had already gone to hang out at the Bronze, while she had decided to make one more round before wrapping up patrol. Of course, the Powers That Be chose that precise moment to start a thunderous downpour, just to spite her.

Behind her, she could hear the approaching steps of some poor vampire who obviously picked the wrong night to do evil.

"You know…" She said to the creature without even turning around, "If you're trying to sneak up on me, you're really doing a horrible job." With that, she turned around, dealing a hard kick to the unsuspecting vampire.

The creature growled at her, displaying pearly white fangs.

"Aww…" She pretended to pout, "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" She dropped swiftly to the ground, sweeping her leg around and watched as the vampire tripped and fell with a grand "oomph" to the ground.

She was on top of him in a second, stake in hand. Almost reflexively, she drove the wooden weapon deep into the vampire and watched as it turned into dust. She sighed heavily, rising form the ground.

"Well… that was amusing." She said to no one in particular. She shoved her stake deep into her pockets, making a face of disgust as the rain began to come on even stronger.

*          *            *

"Angel!" Wesley watched the man as he paced around the room, "Would you stop that? It's beginning to make me quite dizzy."

The vampire sighed, stopping in mid-step. "Sorry, Wes. I'm just feeling a little restless tonight."

"Yes." The ex-Watcher paused, "So I see."

"All right…" Cordelia walked into the room. She held one hand to her head, and she was glaring rather angrily at the wall. "Did I ever tell you that I _hate_ visions?"

Wesley looked up, slight alarmed. "You had a vision?"

"Yah!" Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Ya think?"

Angel looked at the young woman intently, settling himself on the couch. He motioned for her to do the same, "What was it about?"

She complied and took a seat. She furrowed her eyebrows, "It was blurry and fast. There was a big ugly thing. Maybe a vamp… or just some disgusting demon. I don't know."

"What was it doing?" Wesley asked, intrigued by her description.

"I couldn't really tell what it was up to. But it had a nasty set of teeth… or fangs… or whatever you wanna call them. And there was this huge fountain behind it. And get this, it was snowing!"

"Well then, it definitely couldn't have taken place here. I wonder what all this means." Wesley folded his hands under his chin. "It sounds rather serious though. We should probably get on it right away."

"Describe the fountain." Angel looked at Cordelia, "It might give us a clue as to where this thing is."

"It was…really big. And it had like three layers. And there were a lot of Christmas lights strung on it. Behind it was a big lake or ocean or something… lots of water. And in the distance, I could see a huge Ferris Wheel. It felt like a big city, you know, skyline and everything."

"Buckingham Fountain!" Wesley exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

"You mean, like, in England?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"No, no." He shook his head, "Buckingham Fountain in Chicago." He got up and walked over to the computer. "It's right next to Lake Michigan, which accounts for the large body of water." He began to type quickly. "Ah hah!" He turned the monitor screen towards his two companions, "Does this look familiar to you?"

Cordelia squinted at the screen. She got up and walked towards Wesley, her hands on her hips. "Yeah…" She finally decided, "That looks about right."

"Then Chicago it is." Angel said, getting up from the couch, "I'll start packing."

"We don't even know what this demon is… don't you think you're jumping in a little too quickly?" Wesley asked, already reaching for his books.

"I'm hoping you'll figure that part out for me." Angel said without turning around, "This must be something important. Otherwise, Cordy wouldn't have gotten the vision. I think the best thing to do is to get down there as soon as possible before something happens."

"He's right." Cordelia agreed, "This definitely didn't seem like your average, scare-you-out-of-your-mind vision. Definitely worse."

"All right." Wesley sighed, "The rest of us better stay in Los Angeles, lest something happens while you are away. But we'll keep in contact."

"Sounds like a plan." Angel responded, already halfway out the door.

Cordelia watched as the vampire walked out of the room. Her expression was worried as she turned back to face Wesley. "I wonder if I should have told him…"

"Told him what?" The man asked, not bothering to look up from his constant research.

"Buffy was in my vision too…"

*          *            *

            "Chicago?! You want me to go to Chicago, in the middle of winter?" Buffy looked wide-eyed at Giles, "Whose brilliant plan was this?"

            Giles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he removed his glasses. "I've been hearing rumors that have leaked from the Watchers Council. It seems that something has sprung up in Chicago. It's unconfirmed, of course." He took this moment to slip his glasses back onto his nose, "But something tells me this is big. It'd be prudent of us to investigate."

            "Can't you get someone else to do it? I mean… I'm not the only one who can stick a piece a wood in some undead thing." Buffy pouted, plopping herself down into the nearest chair, "Why do I have to go? Do you know how much snow they get around this time?"

            Giles shook his head, "Yes, Buffy, I'm quite aware of this. But I believe this is a very serious threat. I wouldn't ask you to go if I didn't think there was some danger. Of course, I'll have to follow up with more research. But from what I've heard, there's a gang of vampires who have congregated there. They call themselves the Journeyers, and they've been around for quite a while." He flipped open his book, showing a diagram to Buffy, "They're one of the oldest and most powerful clans of vampires to ever exist around the 17th century. Sometime around the Industrial Revolution in England, they were disbanded and driven apart. It's rumored that they've been plotting to come back together for a long time."

            "Gee… let me guess…" Buffy cut him off, "And when they do manage to come back together, they'll unleash Hell and possibly destroy the world in the process."

            "Well…" He sounded rather baffled, "Yes. Something along those lines."

            "And of course, I'm the one who gets to go in and save the world again. Whoop ti doo." She sighed, pouting.

            "I'm sorry Buffy, but you know that it is your responsibility as the Slayer to do this. You are the Chosen One." Giles said, looking at her over the rims of his glasses.

            "Yep." She nodded, "I got it. Big, bad vampire gang, might destroy the world, unleash Hell, did I miss anything?"

            "Well, I'm sure more specifics will turn up in time." Giles added, "But for now, that's all we know. This is rather urgent and it would be wise if you were to leave as soon as possible."

            "What about the old Hellmouth, who's gonna take over while I'm gone?" Buffy asked, already getting up from her seat.

            "We'll be able to figure something out amongst ourselves." Giles reassured her, "Meanwhile, keep your phone with you at all time. We'll contact you when we find out more about what's going on."

            She nodded, "All right." She turned and rubbed her hands together, "Watch out Chicago, here I come."

*          *            *

            Angel shifted restlessly, his eyes staring blankly ahead of him. He wasn't paying attention to the in-flight movie, though he made the pretense of putting on his headphones. The rest of the passengers on the flight were fast asleep. After all, this was the midnight flight. But Angel was fully awake. His fingers were fidgeting rhythmically with the pencil in his hand. His thoughts wandered, as they always did, to her. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not since the first day he had met her. That was what infuriated him the most. How long had it been? He sighed, laying his head back on his seat. Two and a half years. It had been two and a half years since he left Sunnydale and created that rift between him and the only woman he'd ever loved. It had been for her own good… or so he had thought. He had only wanted her to have a regular life. A life that any other teenage girl would want. But that was not his Buffy. No. She didn't want a normal life. Because she wasn't a normal teenager. He should have seen it then, before it was too late. He should have known that she would never be able to be just a regular girl. She was the Slayer. The Chosen One. She was the only one in all 246 years of his life to have ever touched him to the core… and he had let her go. 

            The pencil cracked into two pieces as he squeezed it mercilessly. He closed his eyes, swallowing the sob that swelled in his throat. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She was dead. She had sacrificed herself, given herself up, to save the world. Willow had told him about how she fought, about how she was brave. She was always so rash and reckless. Jumping into things without thinking about them. That's what made her so good. That's what made her the Slayer.

            What did anything matter anymore? Shanshu? What was the point of that? Why would he want to be human if she were dead? The only reason he had ever wanted to live again, was so that he could be with her again. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, know her, and hold her until the sun came up. And then… and then, he could actually take her outside. Take a walk in the park, have a picnic under the sun. He closed his eyes, dreaming back to that one day… that one brief day, when he could feel the heat beating down on his face. That day had been paradise. That day was the only thing he had left to cling onto.

            She was gone. And with her, she took the only happiness and hope he had left in his life. He was immortal. The more he thought about it, the more he despised it. He would never die, he would never grow old, he would never be… normal. He was a vampire. She had been the Slayer. Even the thought of it made him realize how impossible their relationship had been. She was born to despise his kind. He was made to fight her. And yet, somewhere in between, the Powers That Be got it all mixed up.

            He sighed, letting himself slump down in his seat. He could here the flight attendant's clear voice as she spoke to the passengers.

            "Thank you for flying with us today. As we make our final decent into Chicago O'Hare Airport, please make sure your seatbelt is safely fastened and your tray table is in its upright and locked position. The local time is now 3:46 AM. We thank you again for traveling with us, and we hope you have a safe and fun stay in the Windy City."

            He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stop thinking about Buffy. This was not the time. He had his responsibilities. He had lives to save. If anything, she had taught him how to be a man. She had given him the reason to suppress his demon instincts. And that was why he was here. That was why he defended the helpless. He was making amends for all the evil he'd done. And this was just another test, to prove that he was worthy of being a man again someday.

*          *            *

            It was cold. I mean, sure she'd experienced being cold before. When she was five, she had had the brilliant idea of trying to hide in the refrigerator during a game of hide and seek. But nothing compared to this.

            Buffy wound her scarf more tightly around her neck as she retreated into the warmth of her down coat. She had lived in California all her life, and her wardrobe didn't exactly account for below freezing temperatures. She silently vowed to herself that she'd let herself loose on a shopping spree the moment she settled into her hotel room. Sure, she was the Slayer, but nowhere had it ever said in her heavenly contract that she'd have to trudge through five feet of snow. Giles had warned her. He'd even provided her with a few coats and hats while he rambled on about how cold it could get in the Midwest. For an old librarian and retired Watcher, the man sure had his ways. He managed to get her a rather suitable hotel in downtown Chicago. It wasn't the Ritz, but it wasn't bad either. Just convenient enough so that she could easily access the more "colorful" alleys in the city, but also small enough so that no one would care if she came and went during odd hours of the night. It was a small place called the Crown. Something told Buffy that Giles still had more connections with the Watchers' Council then he would have liked to admit. This was no ordinary hotel. From the research Willow had done for her, this hotel had housed more than a few passing Slayers in the past.

            That's what sort of scared her. What could have gotten the Council so riled up that they would have gone against every snobbish, presumptuous nerve in their bodies to have called upon her? Surely there were others who lived closer to Chicago and whom didn't despise them that they could have summoned to help. But she knew why they must have called her. Because she was the One. Not just the Chosen One. She was _the_ One. She liked to think of herself as the Cursed One. The one that was destined to get down and dirty. When the world needed saving, they always came running to her. They wouldn't let her be. They wouldn't leave her alone. They wouldn't even let her die an honorable, albeit unnatural, death. No. Death was foreign to her. She could not die. Because even when she did, she was always called back.

            She groaned inwardly as she tugged her luggage behind her up the steps of the hotel. She was thankful to get inside the warm lobby, and she was suddenly aware that she could finally feel her toes again. She sighed, digging out the paperwork Giles had provided for her.

            "Hello, miss." The clerk greeted her, "How may I help you?"

            "I have a reservation." She replied, clunking the papers down on the counter.

            "What's your name?" He asked, glancing at her before looking back at his computer screen.

            "Anne. Anne Summers." She replied, producing the all-too-convenient fake ID Giles had all doctored up for her.

            The clerk didn't even give it a passing look. He just nodded and produced a set of key cards, "Welcome to Chicago, Miss Summers." He said, "Your room number is 1253. I hope you enjoy your stay here with us."

            She offered a grateful smile, taking her key cards with one hand while re-pocketing her ID with her other. "I hope so too." She replied, already heading towards the elevators.

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	2. Chapter Two

**~*Two*~**

_"I learned to let go,_

_Of the illusions that we can possess."_

_-- Madonna_

            "We are almost all assembled." The man turned towards the wall, glaring into it, almost through it. "Before the end of this week, we will be ready to rise in force."

"That is good. When all the members of the Klak have been reunited, we will be whole again. They can not stop us this time." The voice seemed to come from everywhere all at once. It was distinctly feminine. It was soothing and calm, yet still held a hard, bitter edge. "You will make sure they do not fail me, Fiore. Make sure that they are here in time."

            "I will, Mistress. I will ensure that our plan does not fail." The man bowed his head, his voice rasping out the last few words. "It is only a matter of time before the rest of the Klak have arrived. You understand they can only come in the night. I have watches set up at the airport to receive them. Already we have assembled Violet, Dierdra, Rowan, and Kelson. It will only be a matter of time before the rest arrive."

            "I am pleased, Fiore. I am very pleased with your progress. Let the world know that the Journeyers will not be kept down long. It has been centuries since I have seen the rest of our Klak, it will be good to finally greet our Brothers and Sisters again." The voice swirled around the man and finally came to concentrate in the form of a young woman.

            She was pale, unbelievably so, as if she had never seen the sun in her life. Her hair was full and black, cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes were a piercing green and her mouth a blood red. She wore a long, velvet black dress. It framed her slight stature rather prettily. She walked slowly and deliberately up the man standing before her. Her eyes betrayed no emotion as she savagely covered his mouth with her own.

            He struggled only for a few seconds, and when she drew away again, his expression was one of pure happiness. His eyes glowed golden, and his face changed. His forehead protruded out, making his eyes sink back into his head. Pristinely white fangs formed in his mouth, and he licked his lips slowly. "I have missed you, Mistress."

            "You will get another taste of happiness again soon, Fiore. If things proceed as planned… it will be very soon…" She whispered into his ear.

*          *          *

            It had been a while since the last time he had seen snow. He marveled in it now, watching as it fell slowly in chunks and flakes from the black sky. He stood, not even paying attention to anything around him, as the tiny, intricate flakes dotted his black clothing.

He was mildly aware that he was not alone on the sidewalk. All around him, he could hear the bustle of holiday shoppers scrambling to buy the last of their gifts. He shook himself out of his reverie, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he began to saunter slowly down the street.

Michigan Avenue was always busy around Christmas time. Lights had been strung festively across the lampposts and hung delicately from the trees. At every corner, he could hear carols being played by street musicians just looking for enough money to buy dinner. It seemed that the city of Chicago never stopped being busy. He found himself wishing for the quiet of his own room, where at least he could think without hearing bells jingling all around him. He wasn't exactly sure why he was here; he just wanted to get away from the cramped spaces of his hotel room.

A persistent beeping in his pocket alerted him that someone was trying to contact him. He dug his cell phone out and turned it on in one swift motion.

"Go ahead." He said into it, continuing to walk down the street.

"Angel, it's Cordy." The young woman's peppy voice blared through the small mechanism, "How's the Windy City?"

"Cold." He replied, again stopping to watch the snow.

"That's good to know." She didn't seem to be very interested, "Anyways, Wes thinks he's figured out what you're up against."

"Good, put him on."

There was a slight pause and then shuffling as the phone was passed to a new speaker. "Yes, Angel, I have it here in front of me." The ex-Watcher's distinct British voice spoke, "I believe what you're dealing with is a demon called Lanthos. Now, this is a very old demon, in fact, it hasn't been spotted for a few centuries. The last account I have of it is from the mid-1800s."

"So why'd it decide to show up now?" Angel asked, intrigued.

"I'm not quite sure. But Cordelia confirmed that it was the same demon from her vision. No one actually knows where Lanthos comes from. There are no records of its origins… hence, there are no known ways to kill it."

"Well, something must have destroyed it. Unless it decided to hide for a couple centuries." He sighed into the phone, "I'll try to keep my ears open for any mention of this Lanthos… You have any leads as to where I can find someone who might know a little about this here in Chicago?"

Wesley paused, "Well… there was a very good reason I booked you into that hotel…"

"Which, by the way," Angel cut in, "Has about the smallest rooms I've ever seen. It sorta bores you out of your mind having to stay in there all day…"

"As I was saying…" Wesley ignored the vampire's comment, "That hotel, the Crown, used to be the headquarters for Watcher business. Of course, Chicago hasn't seen a Slayer for a few decades now, but the connections are still there. You might find something."

"All right. Got it. I'll check it out later tonight." He stopped at a street corner, watching as a horse-drawn buggy went by.

"Be careful, Angel. For all we know, this Lanthos could be invincible."

"Yeah, don't worry about me."

*          *          *

            Buffy walked past several storefronts, her arms laden with bags. She hummed a cheerful Christmas carol, deciding that the whole festive mood was contagious. She had just finished buying herself a new wardrobe, one even Cordelia would have been proud of.

She made her way down Michigan Avenue, heading back towards her hotel. She had been pleasantly surprised when she had found that Giles had booked her into the Empress Suite and she was looking forward to a relaxing bubble bath before going back out again to patrol. She made her way into the lobby, offering a warm smile to the other patrons just checking in. Immediately, two bellboys rushed up to her and helped relieve her of her bags.

"It's all right… I've got it." She persisted, not sure why they were so eager.

"Please, let us help." One of them looked at her.

She was just about to decline their offer when she looked into his face. He seemed so excited, almost frightened of her. He was smiling ecstatically from ear to ear. He seemed nervous, yet very pleased. She sighed, deciding to let them help. After all, if the Chicago people wanted to be friendly to her, why not let herself be pampered for a while?

Once they got to her room, the two young men set her things down near the desk. Before she could even offer them a tip, they had scurried out the door. She raised an eyebrow, a little shocked at their hospitality. She shrugged, picking up the cordless phone and plopping down on the cushy couch in front of her.

Almost instinctively, she dialed Giles' familiar number and waited for someone to pick up on the other side.

Her expectations were soon met as she heard a very out-of-breath Giles answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Giles. It's me."

"Buffy…" She could almost hear him smile, "It's good to know you made it to Chicago in one piece."

"Yeah… it would've been a real pity if I got decimated before I even got here to save the world…" She said sarcastically, "You told me to check in. So… here I am, checking in."

"I'm glad that you didn't lose your witty sense of humor during the flight." He commented, "How are you finding things in Chicago?"

"If you wanna know the truth… I'm not." She replied, "It's kinda strange for a city that's supposedly filled with demons, 'cause I haven't seen anything supernatural since the moment I got here. Unless you count the bellboys in this hotel… they're sorta freaky. Oh, and by the way, thank you for booking me in the Empress Suite. That must've cost you a fortune, but it's got quite a view!"

"Oh… dammit." Giles swore lightly into the phone, "I told them no special treatments…"

"What do you mean 'no special treatments'?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well… you see… the Crown hasn't housed a Slayer in a few decades… so to them, you're sorta a hero. A legend, if you will."

"They know I'm a Slayer?!" Buffy glared at the phone, "Giles, what's going on?"

There was a slight pause on the other side and she could almost imagine Giles taking the time to take his glasses off and clean them on his shirt. "I didn't want to tell you this before you left, because I knew you would be upset. But the Council is the one that wants you in Chicago."

"Yeah… I thought this had something to do with the Council. I couldn't exactly see you financing a trip to Chicago… plus, you did leave me with an obscene amount of money. By the way, where did you get that?" Buffy asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"That's also from the Council. They seem rather worried. They've agreed to cover all of your expenses, no questions asked. Anyways, I had been reluctant to deal with the Council at all, but they did sound rather desperate. They seem to think that the Journeyers are a genuine threat. Apparently, they took the courtesy of warning their Chicago contacts of your arrival. That might be why you're receiving the unsolicited attention."

"So you mean I get the superstar treatment while I'm here?" She asked, ideas already forming in her head.

"I wouldn't go so far as to describe it as 'superstar', but yes, you'll probably find most people will hold a good deal of respect for you. At least at the hotel." He replied, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Well then, I'll talk to you later Giles. I need to go test out my new reputation." She smiled, "I'll call you again if I find something."

"All right, Buffy. Just make sure to keep things under control. We don't want the news of your arrival in Chicago to leak out to the enemy."

"Don't worry, Giles. I'll be a good girl." She replied, "Talk to you later."

She sighed hanging up the phone. She allowed herself a small affectionate smile. It was good of Giles to look out for her. She shed off her thick coat and began to unwrap the scarf from her neck. She walked through the living room and found herself in a lavishly decorated bedroom. In the center, she found a large, king-sized bed laden with pillows of assorted sizes. She smiled, letting herself sink down into it. Looking at her watch, she realized that the night had just begun. She groaned inwardly and forced herself out of the safety of the pillows.

Her bedroom was connected to a large bathroom complete with a jacuzzi. She made a mental note to check that out later. On the other side, there was a large sliding door that led out onto a balcony. Picking up a sweater from her bag, she walked out into the crisp, wintry air.

It was snowing. She could feel each little flake falling onto her skin, melting on contact. She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the cold. When was the last time she had ever seen snow? She knew… she remembered… she would never forget. It had been one of the hottest winters in all of Sunnydale; no one had expected a sudden cold front to hit. But it wasn't the weather that she was reminded of. It was him. An image of him flashed through her mind. His tall, broad figure. He had refused to face her, his back turned towards her, as he stared out onto Sunnydale from the top of the hill. His hands had been clenched at his sides, and his figure was bent in a defeated fashion. She had begged him to go inside. She had pleaded with him to save himself before the sun came up. But he had refused. She still remembered the look of horror on his face. His dark features had been set in an expression of remorse and panic. _Am I a thing worth saving, huh? Am I a righteous man? The world wants me gone!_ He had shouted those words at her. It had scared her. Just the prospect of him leaving. Of living without him. She had shut him out, crying all the while. And then… as if a gift from the heavens to stop her pain… it had started snowing. She had been in the middle of screaming her heart out at him. And there it had been… pure, innocent, white snow.

She opened her eyes again, his face still dancing in her eyes and his touch still lingering on her arms. She found tears trailing down her cheeks even though she hadn't even felt them swell up.

"Angel…" She whispered out into the night. She didn't know who she was talking to, she just felt that she needed to say his name. She needed to remember him, so that at least she knew that she had been happy at some point in her life. She hugged her arms around herself tightly. Years of pent up tears suddenly began to spring forth. Before she could even put up a fight, she found herself breaking down right there on the balcony. She felt so small, so weak. Life had been so much more simple for her back then. She had the man of her dreams, a mother who loved her, friends who cared.

Now… now she didn't even know what she had left. She had given away her heart to a man… no, a vampire. With him, he had taken her love, her happiness, and her optimism. What had she been fighting for the past two and a half years? It certainly wasn't for herself. She never wanted this life. But she had to be strong. She had to be strong for Dawn, to show her that the world wasn't just demons and monsters. She had to be strong for her mother, to let her know that she had raised a daughter to be proud of. She had to be strong for Giles, to pay him back for all the patient years of training her, and watching her grow up. But most of all… she had to be strong for him. To show him that she was OK, that he hadn't shattered her into a million pieces, impossible to pick up. 

But now she was alone, sitting by herself in a strange new city. Here, she didn't have to be strong for anyone. No one would care about her sob stories, or listen to her weep into the night. Here, she could finally let out all the pain she had locked up in her heart. She stumbled back into her room, realizing that the cold was getting to her.

She collapsed on her bed and scrunched herself up into the fetal position, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes, shutting the world out.

Tonight, she was going to be just another girl whose heart had been broken too many times.

*          *          *

            Angel walked out slowly onto the balcony of his hotel room. He breathed in the cool night air, letting it sooth his cramped muscles and his jittery mind. He had found little out on the street and had returned to the hotel. He promised himself that he'd ask around about the demon later. Wesley had sounded genuinely worried.

            The Chicago nightscape stretched out below him. The whole city was alight. Down below, he could hear the roaring of car engines and chattering of passer-bys. The city looked so peaceful to him. Off towards the east stretched the expanse of Lake Michigan. In the night, it looked like a dark, black hole, peaceful and tranquil. He sighed very quietly, soaking up the rare silence.

            "Angel…"

            His head jerked up, his eyes going wide. He looked around, desperately trying to figure out where that had come from. It had been her voice… her sweet, melodic voice. It had been so long since he had heard her speak his name.

            He shook his head. He was becoming delusional… she was dead. He knew it. He was constantly reminded of it. But he could have sworn he had heard her speak his name. He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking out one more time into the night.

            "I'm sorry, Buffy…" His voice cracked, "I'm so sorry…"

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	3. Chapter Three

**~*Three*~**

_"Wherever you go, whatever you do,_

_I will be right here waiting for you._

_Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks,_

_I will be right here waiting for you…"_

_-- Richard Marx_

            The darkness was heavy. A lone figure watched as the plane landed. It was a small, private plane. It seated perhaps 6 passengers. Slowly, a ramp descended from the vehicle. A low growl came from the cowered over figure standing next to the car. Anticipation was thick, almost palpable. Slowly, two figures walked down the ramp. One of them was young girl, perhaps no more than ten years of age. Her companion was an older gentleman. He carried with him a briefcase and wore a top hat at a jaunty angle. The two gave a friendly wave of goodbye to the pilots before making their way towards the limousine that awaited them.

            The gentleman was the first to speak. He spoke with a refined British accent, "Hello, sir. I believe you are to be our escort to the hotel?"

            The creature glared the man and the girl who accompanied him. It's golden-red eyes darted over them, as if examining their features. It snarled, bearing its yellow fangs.

            "Now, now." The gentleman exclaimed, scowling slightly, "There's no need to be impolite. We were informed that we were to arrive sometime this week. We were unable to catch an earlier flight."

            Again, the monster growled. Slowly, it straightened to its full height, coming to a full seven feet. Its hairy claws twitched slightly in discomfort.

            There was a tense moment of silence that passed between the creature and the two new arrivals. Finally, the thing stepped aside and opened the door of the limousine, allowing them passage.

            As the two entered the limousine, the little girl gave harsh glare at the monster. "Now, now." She chastised, "Don't play mean with us. We were invited here by the Mistress." Her violet eyes gleamed dangerously. She stuck her tongue out at the monster before proceeding to get into the car.

            The monster bowed its head in respect before rounding the car and getting into another compartment of the limousine. With that, the car took off the early hours of the morning, heading into downtown Chicago.

*          *          *

            Buffy walked with a deliberate step as she entered the lobby. She looked around, finally deciding to approach the main desk. She was greeted by the clerk who had checked her in the other day. She offered a warm smile, folding her arms on the counter.

            "Hello." She said, "My name is Anne Summers. I'm the one who's staying in the Empress Suite…"

            At this, the young man immediately seemed to perk up. He stood up a little straighter and seemed to look at her with much more attention and respect.

            "I was wondering," Buffy continued, "I was told I might be able to find out about the… uh… unnatural occurrences in the area from somebody here."

            The man nodded stiffly, he seemed nervous. "Why… uh… yes. I… I could provide you with whatever information you need."

            Buffy smiled, "Well then. Mind if we have a little chat?"

            The man walked out from behind the counter. He led her to a small conference room down the hall. After the two entered, he locked the door behind him. He glanced at her nervously.

            "Umm… what's your name?" Buffy asked, trying to set the man at ease.

            "I'm Matt. I… uh… I'm studying to be a Wicca…" He was stuttering, "I've never met a Slayer before. I… uh… I've read about you though. I mean, not you in particular… but you know, I've read about Slayers…. Yeah…."

            Buffy smiled, "Well, don't believe half the stuff they write about us. We're not as bad as you think."

            "Oh… no! It's nothing like that…" He cut in, "I mean… you sound amazing. You know, super human strength… regenerative powers… very cool."

            She nodded, taking a seat on one of the chairs. "Well, what I meant to say was… we're really quite human. So, you don't have to be nervous or anything. I'm not gonna try to stake you."

            He laughed nervously, sitting down next to her. "That's good to know."

            "So… Matt. Can you tell me a little about the activity in the city? Is it mainly vamps or demons? And where can I find them?"

            At the mention of the supernatural creatures, the young man seemed to perk up. "Well," He smiled, "it's mainly vampires. We've seen a mix of some lower level demons too. The area right around the hotel is pretty clean. Really, we don't have much activity at all. At least, not until recently. I never even saw a vampire until a few weeks ago."

            Buffy nodded, taking this news in. "So, why would they all of sudden start coming to Chicago now?"

            "I don't know." Matt shrugged, "Alfred, he's a retired Watcher who works here, he's been flipping through all these old books trying to figure out why we're suddenly getting vampires. He said something about how the last Slayer had pretty much driven out the whole demonic population. That's why we don't have a Slayer. There hasn't been a need for one…And now… I dunno. They just start popping up like daisies."

            At this, Buffy laughed. "Well, vamps tend to hang out around cemeteries. But there aren't any cemeteries in the middle of downtown Chicago. Somehow, I get the feeling these vamps aren't native. They're just congregating here…"

            Matt nodded, "We see them in the alleys sometimes. They don't seem to like light too much. They like to hang out at clubs, and warehouses seem to be a big favorite with them. Other than that, I don't know what else I could tell you."

            Buffy nodded, "Yeah, sounds like the usual suspects. I'll check them out later tonight when I go out to patrol a bit." She got up, "Thanks for the info. Contact me if anything strange or new pops up."

            Matt smiled, getting up as well. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Summers."

            "Call me Anne." She said, already walking out into the hallway.

            "It was nice meeting you… Anne." He repeated. Then he smiled nervously and shuffled back to his post at the front desk.

            Buffy watched him leave, a slight frown overcoming her features. Somehow, this didn't seem right. Obviously, this city had not seen vampire activity for long time. Why would vamps all of a sudden find it so attractive now? She shook her head, fingering her key card. She let a small sigh and decided to give Giles another call. She walked out into the lobby again, calling an elevator to go back to her suite.

*          *          *

            "We are here to serve you, Mistress." The young girl bowed down in front of the shadowed figure before her, "We apologize for our late arrival."

            "Oh, don't be silly, Violet." The young woman motioned for her to stand up, "We still have a few more days. Besides, we're still waiting for a few of our Klak to join us."

            The young girl straightened. She ran her fingers through her frizzy, black curls. A small smirk spreading over her features, "It is good to see you, Mistress. I have waited many centuries to meet you again."

            The woman laughed, seemingly pleased, "If things go as planned, you will live many more centuries in my presence." She sat down on her lavish throne. "I see you brought Kelson with you."

            The older gentleman now bowed, "I'm am here to serve you, Mistress."

            The woman nodded, "Please, forego the formalities. We live now in the 21st century, it would be wise for us to change with the times."

            The man got up stiffly as he nodded to her request.

            She sighed impatiently, her emerald eyes searching around the room. "As Fiore has previously explained to you, we hope to begin to Elevate by the end of the week. We have tracked down the remaining remembers of our Klak. Unfortunately, our numbers have dwindled in the centuries. This means that I will need your strength more than ever." Her eyes pierced through the two figures that stood before her, "We need to ensure that things go smoothly. If we are to win, we need full cooperation. We can't have another upset as we did last time. We can't afford to lose again. The Klak is becoming few. If we are to survive, we must rise now."

            "We are with you, Mistress." The two replied; they eyes trained on her.

            "Then if you are truly with me, give me your gifts." Her eyes became hungry as they glared at the girl and the man. She motioned for them to come towards her.

            The girl was the first. She stepped up reluctantly to the throne. Mistress stood up, her face changing even as she bent towards the small figure before her. Her eyes glowed yellow and her fangs were now visible. She seized the girl violently, grasping the small form to her bosom. Her mouth closed in rapidly on the girl's neck. Within seconds, she had a death grasp on her. Slowly, she drained the girl, reveling in her blood.

            Finally, she drew away, crimson trickling from her lips. She looked at the small vampire child standing before her. "You have served me well, Violet. You will be rewarded."

            The girl's form shook rapidly but her voice was steady, "Anything for you, Mistress."

            The woman looked up, licking her lips slowly. Her gaze came to rest on the man. "Come forth, Kelson. Now it is your turn to give your gift…"

*          *          *

            The alley was disturbingly quiet. Angel walked down it slowly, his keen eyes surveying every dark corner. His senses were alert; something didn't feel right. He had talked with one of the clerks at the hotel earlier that day. The young woman had directed him to this part of town, claiming that there was a large amount vampire activity in this area in the past week. He tightened his grip on the stake in his hand. If his heart were alive, he imagined it would be beating faster right now.

            The alley was deserted. The ground was totally covered in tightly packed snow, making it somewhat slippery. Angel examined it for footprints and found that for a deserted alley, there sure were a lot of prints. The night was cold and the wind was harsh. He could see his breath in front of him… at least, he imagined he would be able to… though he didn't actually breathe. His fingers again ran over the smooth surface of the stake, just to reassure himself that it was there. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him.

            He whirled around quickly, his eyes immediately finding the source of the noise. It came from a large group of people that was walking towards him. From the looks of it, it seemed there were at least ten of them.

            "Who're you?" One of them asked, stepping towards Angel. His voice was low and rasping.

            "I could ask you the same question." He replied. No matter how nervous he was inside, he wasn't going to let them know his fear.

            Without warning, the man's face changed. He glared at Angel, "You better tell me the truth, or I'm going to have fun sucking the life outta you."

            Angel stepped forward, shrugging, "I would let you do that. But I've tried that already. Didn't like it too much." His instincts took over and he felt his own face change too. With the change, he could feel his strength growing. The exhilaration for the kill was kicking in, and he lifted his stake up.

            There was a deep growl from somewhere in the midst of the pack. Angel realized he was grossly outnumbered, yet at the same time, he also realized that he was cornered in a dead end. He looked around, trying to gain his bearings before the fight that would inevitably ensue.

            The vampire that had spoken lunged at him, trying to grab him by the collar. Angel ducked easily, able to stake him even before he got the chance to recover his balance.

            The rest of the gang paused for a moment at their friend's death. Then, as if realization finally dawned on them, they attacked. There were twelve of them, Angel counted. This was not going to be easy. He began to back up, slowly retreating between two large stacks of crates off towards the side of the alley. He hoped this would at least force them to attack one at a time.

            A growl towards his right informed him that his next opponent had arrived. He ducked instinctively, striking out with a hard punch. He heard an "oomph" come from the darkness and guessed that he had hit his mark. He raised his arm to strike, weapon in hand. Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind. Two strong arms were encircled around his neck. He raised his arm, punching frantically at the vampire behind him. The one in front of him had recovered and was now one his feet.

            Angel swore, swinging around. Sharply, he thrust his elbow back. The arms around him loosened and allowed him to slip from their grasp. He whirled around, kicking the vamp and striking out blindly with his stake. He was reward by a scream followed by the sound of dust hitting the ground. Even before he could turn back around, three more vampires were coming in fast.

            He ran, realizing that he was going to need space. He swore at his own recklessness for not thinking to lead them to a more advantageous place to fight. Now he was stuck. He picked up a crate, smashing it into pieces at his feet. He picked up the sharper ones, launching them with all his might at the vampires running towards him. He managed a lucky shot and took one of them out with his barrage. Now they were getting even more angry at him. He was out of room to run. He turned around, bracing himself.

            The next wave of vampires hit him before he could even get a good grasp on his weapon. They were coming at him four at a time. He struck out in every direction, hoping that he'd get lucky. The demon inside of him started to rise up, taking over his instincts. He crouched down, tripping the vampire on his left in the process. His stake was already driven through the vampire's heart before it could get back up. Angel whirled back around; ready to face whatever came next. He took a hard hit in the jaw. This sent him reeling backwards. He shook the black spots that were impending on his vision and glared viciously at the vampire who had delivered the blow.

            With all of his might, he kicked out with his right fight, sending the poor vampire sprawling backwards on the ground and into the snow. He didn't have time to follow up on the attack as another foe had already decided to take his friend's place.

            A sharp pain hit him in his right shoulder and he hissed. He found a huge slice that went across his shoulder blade and to his back. Without thinking, he struck out with his other arm. He was pushed back into the wall. By now, he couldn't even tell how many vampires were still alive. He just knew that he couldn't win against all of them.

*          *          *

            The sound of fighting came to her ears and Buffy looked up sharply. After having walked through this part of town four times already, she had almost decided to go home. She sighed, rubbing some warmth into her arms as she stalked towards the alley on her right. She was really beginning to despise the cold weather. She could barely feel her toes and her ears had gone numb. In one gloved hand she held her stake, in the other, she fingered a small bottle of holy water.

            As she turned the corner, she saw a pack of vampires hovered towards the back of the alley. She let herself be rational for a second, and counted eight of them. They were fighting against someone… she couldn't tell who, but whoever it was was desperately outnumbered. She decided she might even the odds out a bit.

            She threw the bottle of holy water as hard she could into the midst of the pack. Growling and screaming ensued, followed by one of them proceeding to disappear in a poof of smoke. The rest of the vampires seemed disoriented by this new enemy. They turned around to look at her, allowing their victim a chance to get away. She saw a dark figure run out in the midst of them and she heard the scream of another vampire as it hit the ground as dust.

            Before the vampires could recover their wits, she charged towards them. She took one of them out just by the sheer momentum of her attack. Some of them scrambled out of her path, realizing that she was not scared to fight. She grabbed the nearest vampire to her, thrusting him against the wall. She drove her stake into him and turned around the meet the next one without even watching the first one turn into dust.

            The vampires' victim was also doing quite a fine job himself. In between the exchanges of blows, she saw the dark figure hit another vampire with a hard punch. Within seconds the man was on top of it, staking it. In her head, she decided that only left three vampires between the two of them.

            It seemed that her opponent was thinking the exact same thing. Before she could even deliver her next punch, the vampire turned tail and began to run. His two friends, realizing that they were now at a disadvantage, followed his example. Buffy scowled, ready to run after them. After all, it's never good to leave a job undone.

            She brushed her hair back, throwing a glance at the man whose life she had just finished saving. She wasn't expecting a thank you, but she at least should show the courtesy of seeing if he was all right. She turned to face him…

            … and froze.

            He stood before her, slightly out of breath. In one hand, he held a stake. He was clad entirely in black. He was staring at her with an expression that was a mix of surprise, panic, fear, hope, and pure bewilderment. His face was slightly covered by the shadows, and he had a gash right above his left brow.

            "Angel…" She breathed his name, afraid that if she said it any louder, it'd scare him away. He seemed frightened to see her as if he were… shocked.

            He didn't move. He just stood there, gasping desperately for air. It seemed like forever had passed before he finally spoke. His voice was so soft that she could barely even hear his words. But she recognized it, "Buffy…?"

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	4. Chapter Four

**~*Four*~**

_"Inside, I was a child that could not mend a broken wing,_

_Outside, I looked for a way to teach my heart to sing…"_

_-- Madonna_

            The silence that passed between them became almost impossible to bear. He stared at her, his mind still reeling. There she was. Standing right before him. Some logical part of his mind was telling him that he must be dreaming, obviously since she was supposed to be dead, there would be no way she could be standing before him. But he had shut out logic.

            She was beautiful. Her lithe, slender body was posed as if to move, yet her eyes were wide and scared. She looked so lost. He was afraid to move, afraid to breath, afraid to live… lest she might just disappear into thin air. Neither of them seemed to know what to do next.

            So they just stood there. Staring at each other. Content to just drink in each other's presence. It always felt so good when she was near. He felt so safe, so complete. She reminded him of what he was living for. She radiated warmth and kindness… and forgiveness.

            A loud, sharp ringing suddenly came from his pocket and broke the silence. It sounded foreign and uninvited to his ears. It was the wake up call that he now wished had never come. It shook both of them out of their trance-like state and their eyes finally broke contact. Swearing inaudibly, Angel reached for the cell phone that had now rung twice. He turned it on, almost ready to throttle whoever would be on the other side.

            "Hello…?" He said, trying not to sound too annoyed.

            This was all she needed to break her out of her dream. Without even a pause or a second glance at him, she started running.

*          *          *

            She didn't know what had possessed her to start to move, but now her legs had taken over her mind and all she could think of was that she had three more vampires to kill and that she must go after them. The rest of her mind shut down and she concentrated solely on the task of getting out of the alley. Behind her, she heard Angel swear loudly followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. He was coming after her.

            Another kick of adrenaline rushed through her veins and she picked up speed. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him or talk to him… she didn't even know why she was running away. All of her reasoning had been thrown out the window… all she knew now was that she needed to keep going. Her strides became longer and her breathing fell into a regular pattern. She concentrated on hearing each thump as her foot hit the pavement. She just wanted to get away. She wanted to get away from him and get away from the feelings that he brought with him. She didn't want to have to deal with that right now. She didn't want to have to deal with anything. Not now.

            "Buffy!" He was shouting her name and he was rapidly gaining on her. She was getting tired and he was just getting started.

She pushed another breath out of her burning lungs, willing her tired muscles to continue moving. Some part of her was telling her to stop and turn around, let him catch up so that they could at least talk. She always dreamed of something like this happening. She dreamt of running into him unexpectedly. And now that it finally happened… she wasn't quite sure of what to do with herself.

"Buffy!" His voice was urgent and it was much closer than it had been last time. Within seconds, she felt his strong hands grasp her shoulder, pulling her backwards and jerking her from her momentum. The moment he touched her, she felt every muscle in her body melt. It was as if a shock went through her and rendered her completely helpless. She stopped, desperately trying to force more air into her lungs.

            He didn't remove his hand from her shoulder. He just stood there, gently guiding her towards him.

            "Buffy…"

            The way he said her name… there was longing in his voice, and pain, and remorse. He said it in a way that always made her want to throw herself into his arms.

            He was staring at her now, looking over her as if still trying to make sure she was real. He seemed to struggle for a moment, trying to find the right words to say.

            "You're… alive…"

            She couldn't think. All she could do was nod numbly.

            "You're… alive." He repeated those words again, as if trying to convince himself that it was true. Then, as if the realization finally dawned upon, his grasp on her tightened and she found herself being pulled roughly towards him. He hugged her tightly, his arms running gently up and down her back. His breath was hot on her neck and his body trembled, pressed up so closely against hers. He was mumbling something. She couldn't really understand what he was saying, but she didn't really care. It was good just to hear his voice. His arms were strong and familiar. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace; she wanted to cry all of her worries out in those arms. They stood for a moment longer in that embrace, lingering in its warmth. Finally, he stepped back, letting go of her. "I… it's… how?" He asked, bewildered.

            She stared at the snow, trying not to let her pain show in her expression. "Willow brought me back… she used a spell." She replied, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

            He looked at her with concern in his eyes. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew that he was looking at her. Her answer had been inadequate. She silently prayed that he wouldn't push the subject. She knew that he could feel her pain. He always could. Just as she could always feel his.

            "I'm… glad you're back." He said softly.

            She raised her gaze to meet his, hope rising in her chest. She forced a smile, "Well, you know me, I'm the Slayer. You can never keep me down for long…"

            He wasn't buying her charade. She could tell. He was looking at her with those mysterious dark eyes, as if willing her to continue… to tell him what was wrong.

            She was tempted. She wanted so much to tell someone… anyone. She didn't want to keep everything pent up inside her anymore. She didn't want to lie anymore. She breathed in slowly, forcing herself to calm down. She kept silent, searching for an excuse to talk about something else. "You're hurt." She finally said, noticing that there was a large gash on his sleeve. Without even thinking, she gently placed her hand over the wound.

            He winced, drawing back slightly from her touch. "I'm OK. It's just a flesh wound."

            She shook her head, "Come on… my hotel is just a few blocks away. Let me take a look at that arm."

            He hesitated, as if trying to decide whether he should go with her or not. Finally, he nodded.

            With that, the Slayer and the vampire walked down the deserted streets of Chicago. They walked side by side, keeping a good six inches between them. But to any onlooker, it was obvious that both of them were content to just be within each other's presence.

*          *          *

            "Mistress," Fiore walked into her room, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. "Something has come up…"

            "What is it?" She was annoyed. She disliked it when people interrupted her while she was feeding. Slowly, she drew away and looked at him, "This better be good."

            The vampire who stood before her seemed to be nervous. He bowed his head, hiding his face from her. "Some of our servants were attacked tonight. There's someone new in town…"

            "Were any of our Klak among them?" She asked, her voice urgent and demanding.

            He shook his head quickly, trying to ease her anger, "No. None of the Klak were among them group. However, we did lose ten of our servants."

            "How can this happen?" She fumed. Off of her table she picked up a candle and threw it hard at Fiore. Her eyes flared up and she growled, "You were supposed to make sure things go smoothly Fiore. I would be greatly disappointed if I find out that there is interference in our plan…"

            "I'm sorry, Mistress. I assure you… this won't happen again. I will send more of our servants to take care of this problem." Fiore cringed away from her, backing up slowly.

            "I hope that you are right, Fiore." She glared at him with her eyes squinted. "Who is this stranger that has disrupted our Elevation?"

            "No one knows who he is. He is… one of us, Mistress." He hesitated, his voice becoming unsure. "He is not human."

            Displeasure flashed through her eyes and her hands clenched tightly into fists. "I don't care what he is. Make sure that he is no longer a threat to us. Is that clear?"

            "Yes, Mistress. Of course." Fiore nodded, trembling. "But… there is a girl… she came to his aid. She… she was strong… she wasn't like other humans…"

            "Then take care of her too!" She screamed, throwing another object from the table at him. "I don't care how you do it, but I want them out. We cannot have any interference. I have waited far too long. Do you understand, Fiore?"

            "Yes… I understand, Mistress."

            "Good." She said, smiling demurely, "Then why are you still standing here?"

            "I'm sorry, Mistress. I will take care of it right now." He bowed and turned as quickly as he could, scurrying out of her sight.

            She watched as he left, anger still burning inside of her. She breathed in slowly, clenching her fists together tightly. "No one will stop us." She hissed into the darkness.

*          *          *

            Buffy was staying at the Crown. Just the pure coincidence of the situation stunned Angel. How long had he been right next to her, without even knowing she was there? He watched her as she led him through the hotel lobby and towards the elevators. She refused to look at him. Her eyes were always directed in front of her, as if there were invisible note cards there that were telling her what to do. Something was different about her. He could no longer feel that air of confidence that used to always hang around her. Her stride no longer held bounce, and her movements were empty… robotic almost. But what scared him the most, was that when he looked into her eyes… he saw nothing. They used to be so vibrant… so alive. But now, she just looked defeated. Something had happened. He wasn't sure what it was… but something had definitely changed. She was just a shell now, a shadow of the girl that he had fallen so madly in love with. He wanted so badly to just grab her and shake her… do anything to get her to react. But he didn't. He just stood there, watching as she led him into her suite.

She shed her coat and threw it onto the nearby couch. She motioned for him to make himself comfortable and disappeared into the next room.

Carefully, he removed his coat. Now that the excitement was over, he was finally aware of the biting pain in his right shoulder. He rotated it slowly, trying to decide the extent of the damage. He sighed, sitting down on the couch.

            "So… why are you in Chicago?" He asked loudly, hoping that she could hear him in the other room.

            "Giles sent me here. There's some vampire gang I'm supposed to stop." She replied, coming back into the living room with a medical kit. She sat down next to him, opening the kit and taking out some bandages. She looked at him in a clinical manner, impassive. "Take off your shirt."

            "What?" He asked, surprised at her request.

            "Take off your shirt." She repeated, holding up the bandages, "If I'm going to bandage that arm of yours, I'm going to have to be able to see the wound."

            He felt slightly foolish, realizing that she was right. He unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off gently. He turned away from her so that she could dress the cut. Her hands were gentle as they slid over his bare skin, and it took all of his control to not tremble under her touch. She washed the wound carefully with water first then began to wrap the bandage tightly around his arm.

            "What about you?" She asked while she worked, "Why are you here?"

            "There's this demon that's supposed to be in town. Cordelia had a vision about it and I decided I should investigate." He replied, keeping his tone casual.

            She didn't say anything in response. She just continued to work diligently. He watched her, marveling at the way the light hit her golden hair. She looked so beautiful to him. So delicate. He was enchanted by her. Her head was bent down in concentration and he realized that if he just moved a few more inches he would be touching her. He was so tempted to do that. He wanted so desperately to be able to feel her in his arms. He had thought for the longest time that she was dead… and now that she was here sitting next to him, he wanted to grab onto her so that she would never leave again. When she had died, she had left him empty inside. Now, all he wanted, was to be able to feel whole again…

            But he knew that was impossible. He could never have what he wanted. He could never let her know just how much he still loved her. It would be unfair to her. He had made the decision two and a half years ago to walk away. It was a decision that had changed both of their lives. And now… that decision was what kept him from stroking her cheek and kissing the breath out of her.

            And so instead, he just sat there and watched. Finally, she finished, and taped the bandage in place. She let out a sigh, moving away from him to put the supplies back into the medical kit.

            "Thank you." He flexed his arm, testing the bandage.

            She looked up at him for a moment, offering a small smile. "No problem."

            An awkward moment of silence passed between them. He continued to look at her, and she continued to avoid eye contact.

            "I guess… I guess I should go." He said softly.

            She nodded slowly, "Yeah… it's getting late…"

            He got up, slipping his shirt back on. Somehow, he felt like he needed to say more. "If you ever need any help… you know, with the vampire gang… I'm one floor down… room 1140."

            The invitation was left hanging there in the air and he held his breath.

            "Thanks, Angel…" She finally said, "Same goes for me."

            Without even thinking, he reached out and cupped her chin with his hand. Gently, he guided her head up so that she was looking into his eyes again. "Good night, Buffy."

            She let out a shaky sigh, "Good night, Angel."

            With that, he let his hand drop back to his side. He gathered up his coat, opened the door, and walked out into the hallway. 

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	5. Chapter Five

**~*Five*~**

_"If you need to fall apart,_

_I can mend a broken heart._

_If you need to crash,_

_Then crash and burn,_

_You're not alone…"_

_-- Savage Garden_

            She realized that it was getting really late. The digital clock on her nightstand now read 4:37, and still she couldn't fall asleep. Buffy lay on her bed, huddled deep within her covers. She wanted desperately to just close her eyes and drift off into slumber, but her mind was rushing all over the place. A part of her was still trying to understand that she had just run into Angel, while the rest of her was thinking about home. She certainly hadn't expected to see Angel again... but that probably should have given her a clue. He had the most uncanny ability of showing up at the precise moment she didn't expect him. She sighed heavily, turning around in her bed and squeezing her eyes shut tightly.

            She was really glad that she had gotten away from Sunnydale. This was the long needed vacation that she'd never had the chance to take. It was good to get away from everything… it was good to get away from everybody. She had lived the last three months of her life without thinking. She put on an act for her friends to show all of them just how grateful she was to be back. But she wasn't. She didn't want to back. She wanted to be dead. When she was dead, she didn't have to worry about anything. She didn't have to worry about taking care of anyone, not even herself. When she was dead, she didn't have to keep feeling the pain in her heart that threatened to overcome her everyday. When she was dead, she didn't have to wake up in the morning with aching muscles and a tired brain…

            But she wasn't dead. Everyday, she would get up, look at herself in the mirror and force a smile on her face. She would greet Dawn and take her to school, wish her a good day; smile and wave… show her that high school wasn't as bad as everyone said it was. Then, she would have to go home… she would climb up those stairs and have to deal with the fact that the room down the hall no longer was inhabited by Joyce Summers. She didn't want to have to deal anymore… she didn't want to have to "just get by." She just wanted all the pain to go away. But it wouldn't.

She was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She was supposed to be the strong one, the one that can take anything life throws at her. She was supposed to be everyone else's shoulder to cry on. Nothing was supposed to shake her; nothing was supposed to get to her. And that's what hurt the most. She wanted so desperately to be able to tell someone, anyone, what she was feeling. She wanted, for once, to be able to dump her problems onto someone else. She couldn't take it anymore… she couldn't take seeing the expectation on everyone's faces. The expectation that she would be OK. Because the truth was, she wasn't OK. She couldn't deal. Though she looked and acted like she was just fine, she was dead inside. No one could see that…

No one… but him. She had felt his eyes on her the whole way back to the hotel. He could see right through her. She could trick the world, she could trick her best friend, her sister, even her Watcher… but she couldn't trick him. He had a vision that could penetrate her heart and see straight to her soul. He knew that she was just going through the motions of life; he felt her pain… just one look into his eyes had shown her that. She cursed him. She cursed him for being so wonderful and for being able to understand her. She cursed him for being able to melt her with just one look… even after all the years.

She closed her eyes again, this time feeling hot tears trickle down her cheeks. She clenched her teeth together, squeezing her eyes shut, forbidding them to shed any more tears. She wasn't supposed to break down like this… especially not two nights in a row… she was supposed to have control. She had six years of Slayer training; she was supposed to be able to suppress her emotions. She bit down on her lip until she could taste metallic blood on her tongue. She was supposed to be able to restrain herself…

_To hell with restraint!_ She screamed mentally. She couldn't do this. She couldn't lie to herself anymore. She hurt… she hurt physically, she hurt mentally, and she hurt emotionally. And all she wanted, was to make it all go away…

*          *          *

            A soft knocking at his door brought Angel out of his daydream. He blinked, hearing the sound again. He sighed, getting from his chair. He grabbed his shirt off the bed and draped it over his shoulders, not bothering to button it.

            The knocking grew even more persistent as he approached the door. Carefully he unlatched the lock and opened the door just a crack so he could see out into the hall.

            Buffy stood before him clad in lavender silk pajamas. She had her arms wrapped around her, and she was slouching in a defeated manner.

            "Buffy…?" He asked, slightly alarmed. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were a bit swollen. She had been crying.

            Her head jerked up immediately as she heard his voice. She seemed frightened… helpless. She looked a little disoriented, as if she didn't know where she was, or why she was there. Her mouth opened, as if she were going to say something, but it took a moment before anything came out. "I… Angel," She finally said, her voice was so small, "I'm sorry to…um… did I wake you?"

            "No." He shook his head, his eyes never leaving her face. He pushed the door open a little wider and stepped back, "Come in."

            She nodded, dropping her gaze to the floor. She stepped inside, walking past him and into the room. He closed the door behind her, latching it shut again. He stared at the wall for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. He could hear her sit down in a chair and he turned around again.

            "Um… do you want anything? I could crack open the minibar…" He offered.

            She just shook her head, her eyes never leaving the floor. "I… uh…" She cleared her throat uneasily. It was as if she suddenly realized what she was just doing, she all of a sudden became very self-conscience. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her pajamas, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "I… couldn't sleep…" She finally said, "And… um… thought that I would… you know…. run my whole situation by you. Compare notes… see if there are any connections between your demon and my vampire gang."

            He raised an eyebrow, sensing that this wasn't the real reason she had come to see him. He was about to say something about it, but decided against it. He took a seat across from her, nodding. "Sure… that's a good idea."

            She let out a relieved sigh, meeting his gaze for a second then immediately dropping it back to her hands. "So… Giles says that this gang… it's called the Journeyers… you ever heard of them before?"

            He nodded very slowly, "Yeah… I've heard some things about them. They were really strong in force about 200 years ago. In fact, they dominated a lot of Europe. They're a pretty scary bunch… but then, a little while afterwards they got completely disbanded. I never really heard from any of them again…"

            Buffy nodded, "Yeah, Giles said something along those lines. He also said that if they all get back together again, in the same place, then they could do some serious damage."

            Angel sighed, "Well… Giles generally tends to be right about these kinds of things." He looked up at her.

            She looked so small sitting in that chair. She was slouched completely in it. Her posture held no form, and it looked like she was trying to disappear into her seat. She was fidgeting rather systematically with the ends of her pajama shirt and her eyes were staring off into some unknown place. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. She wasn't saying anything.

            Slowly, he leaned over in his chair, resting his elbows on top of his knees. He craned his neck, trying to catch her attention, but she seemed to have drifted off into space. Finally, he reached his hand out, gently brushing her arm. "Buffy…?"

            She jerked back, blinking rapidly. "Oh… um…" She shook her head, forcing a wane smile, "Sorry… was thinking about stuff."

            "What kind of stuff?" He asked, deciding that he was going to figure out what was wrong whether she liked it or not.

            She shrugged, "Nothing important, you know… Slayer thoughts." She brushed some stray hair from her eyes, "Stake goes in, stake comes out, vamp turns into dust."

            He raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong, Buffy?"

            "Nothing." She replied all too quickly. She looked at him, slightly bewildered, "What makes you think something is wrong?"

            "Buffy…" He sighed, "I know you… I can tell when something is wrong. And right now… something is definitely wrong."

            "No, nothing's wrong." She persisted, getting up from her chair. "You don't know me… you knew me… you knew me when I was just a high schooler. I'm different now. I'm… just… different…" Her voice trailed off, her argument losing momentum.

            He rose slowly from his seat, walking towards her. "Please, Buffy… just tell me what's going on."

            She turned around, walking away from him and then turning around again, "I… nothing's going on!" She said loudly, "I'm just… I was just thinking about this vampire gang. You know, it sounded dangerous… so I was just trying to figure out ways to kill them."

            "You've dealt with plenty of vampires before, Buffy. None of them have ever shaken you up like this." He persisted, taking a step towards her; "None of them would have made you come down here to see me at this insane hour in the morning…"

            She looked up, heat rising in her eyes, "Well, I'm sorry if I've distracted you from what you were doing. I certainly didn't intend to waste your time…" She tried to walk past him and towards the door.

            He wasn't going to let her off that easy. He caught her arm quickly with his hand, stopping her in mid step. "Buffy… you know I didn't mean it that way." He said, letting a little concern leak into his tone.

            "Yeah… of course not. You never mean what you say." She said, glaring at him, "You just come and go as you please, spouting words of wisdom… that's how it always is, isn't it? And then you say something you don't mean, and I'm supposed to just forgive you and understand…"

            "That's not how it is…" He said, keeping his grasp firm on her arm.

            "Then how is?" She asked, "Because I don't understand it anymore. I don't understand how this is supposed to work. And you know what? I don't understand why the hell you can still affect me the way you did two and half years ago!" She whirled on him, "I don't understand why you left. I don't understand why you come back. And I don't understand why I ran into you today. I don't understand any of it! All I know is, when I look at you… a part of me wants me to be angry, but the rest of me can't. And that frustrates me! This can't keep happening to me. I can't deal with it anymore… I can't deal with…" She paused in mid-sentence, her muscles tensing under his grasp. She shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I can't deal with anything…"

            He didn't say anything. He just watched her and listened to her. He knew that she was no longer talking about them anymore. She just wanted to get angry at something. She was hurting… she was hurting badly. He didn't know why. All he knew was that there was a pain in his chest that didn't belong to him… it was her pain.

            She wriggled out of his grasp, brushing past him. He turned around, watching as she walked away from him, towards the balcony door. She stood with her back turned, staring out the parted curtains.

            A loud silence had settled itself comfortably into the room. Angel stood still, his eyes trained on her figure. The dim light from the one lit lamp in the room cast a golden aura on her. She looked so frail. The light, silky fabric of her pajamas fell smoothly over her shoulders and draped down her arms. They framed her small, slender body perfectly. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. Her stringy, golden hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, unnoticed by its owner. 

            The silence had passed for a good minute now, but neither of them did anything. Angel waited patiently, continuing to watch her from his spot in the middle of the room.

            "I was in heaven." Her voice was only a whisper and he had to strain to hear her. "Did you know that, Angel?" She turned around to face him.

            He looked at her, unsure if he should answer.

            "I was in heaven." She closed her eyes and he saw tears trickle down her cheeks, "and it was perfect. There was no pain… there was no suffering. I lived in my own little dream world." She shook her head.

            Slowly, he walked towards her, stopping when he was within arm's reach of her.

            "I saw my mother…" She whispered, "She was happy. She was so happy… and… and… I saw you there." She looked up at him with glistening eyes, "You were there, and you loved me the way you used to, and you told me it would be OK. Everything was perfect…" She swallowed slowly, lowering her gaze. "That's how things were supposed to be. I gave up my life because I wanted to. It was my choice."

            He breathed in slowly, willing himself not to take her in his arms.

            "They… they don't know that." Her voice was starting to shake, "I couldn't tell them. They think that I was in some hell dimension… they all think that they did a favor by bringing me back. For a while… they treated me like they were walking on eggshells. As if, any moment, I was going to break." She shook her head vigorously, "And then… they just stopped noticing. Willow and Tara live in Mom's room now… and even though I understand that's the most practical thing to do… it doesn't feel right. I miss her, Angel." She leaned in towards him, "I miss her so much. But it's as if they don't even remember her…"

            Very carefully, he lifted his arms up inviting her in. Slowly, she leaned into him until she rested her forehead on his chest. He brought his arms around her gently, rubbing her back in a rhythmic motion.

            "They think I'm so strong… they think that I can handle it all. But I can't, Angel, I can't. It's too much. And it hurts. Right in the middle of my chest. And I can't do anything about it. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't live…" She brought her hands up to rest on his chest.

            He could feel her tears now. They were sticky and wet as they fell onto his bare skin. He tightened his hold around her, bringing his chin to rest on top of her head. Slowly, he breathed in her scent, reveling in it. He felt her relax in his arms.

            "I… I want to die, Angel. I want to die again, so I can be in heaven again. Why can't I just die again…?" Her last words were choked as they came out.

            "Shhh…" He whispered gently into her hair, feeling her arms grab desperately for his neck. She began to cry whole-heartedly now.

            The sobs wracked her body into fits, and she was trembling. He tightened his grasp, pressing her body into his to try to steady her. She was choking and gasping for air. Every so often, a small moan would rise from deep within her throat, only to be swallowed up again by another wave of sobs.

            He didn't say anything. He just let her cry, let her get everything out. He kept himself strong, willing himself not to join in with her. Her pain was his pain, and just seeing her cry like this shattered his heart.

            "Angel..." She buried her head into his chest, her fingers digging into the back of his neck. "It hurts…" The tears continued to come, and her legs began to give out beneath her.

            He held her up, letting her lean on him. "I know, Buffy…" He whispered, "I know…"

            "How… how… how can I…?" She couldn't complete her sentence; she was lost within her own sorrows. Her words were swallowed up by another fit of coughing and choking and sobbing.

            "Shhh…" He kissed the top of her head, "Don't worry about it… don't worry about anything… just let it out."

            That seemed to be just wanted she needed to hear. She surrendered to her pain. Her body was shaking uncontrollably now and she was starting to whimper. He picked her up, cradling her head against his chest. Slowly, he walked over to his bed, setting her down on it.

            She immediately curled up her legs to meet her chest, but her arms remained clasped tightly around his neck.

            Gently, he eased her under the covers, pulling them up to her neck to keep her warm. Carefully, he tried to extract himself from her arms.

            "No… Angel… don't let go…" She pleaded, her voice cracked.

            He breathed in deeply, trying to control his own emotions. "It'll be all right, Buffy. I'm right here…" He said, reassuringly. Carefully, he lay down next to her, keeping his arms gently around her.

            She snuggled against him, her head resting on his chest. She was curled up into a tight ball. The tears continued to fall, though the sobs were slowly subsiding.

            He kissed her forehead tenderly, almost fatherly. With one hand, he brushed the hair from her face, "Go to sleep, Buffy… just close your eyes…"

            Following his orders, her eyelids drooped slowly down. Her breathing became more regular. Once in a while, she hiccupped softly from her fit.

            "Shhh…" He whispered softly into her ear, "Rest, Buffy… rest."

            She shook her head, forcing her eyes open again. She lifted her head, looking at him with frightened eyes. "Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up…"

            He looked at her. He looked into those hazel green eyes. Those eyes that could make him do anything… and he knew that there was no way he could deny her. "I promise, Buffy."

            As if satisfied by his answer, she laid her head back on his chest and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	6. Chapter Six

**~*Six*~**

_"The snow is more lonely than cold,_

_If you know what I mean…_

_Everyone's got an agenda, don't stop,_

_Keep that chin up, you'll be all right…"_

_--Savage Garden_

            "Things are not going well…" Her voice was harsh as her beady golden-green eyes glared at the man standing before her.

            "Patience, my sweet." His voice calming and soothing, almost hypnotically so, "Our Elevation is soon upon us."

            She whirled, a mix of anger and obedience rising in her eyes, "There has been a disturbance. It seems that we have encountered more trouble here than we'd anticipated. And we still have not yet found the One!"

            The man stepped forward, stroking her glistening, black hair aside with one cool finger. Icy blue eyes contrasted from even icier pale skin. His gaze penetrated her anger and seemed to calm her. His colorless lips turned slowly to a small smirk, "We still have time. Nothing will stop us this time, dearest. I promise you. The One is here… I can feel it. The Prophecy will be fulfilled, love. The One whose life we shall take is within our grasp… Elevation _shall_ be achieved. And this… disturbance… 'tis but a minor obstacle. We shall overcome it quickly."

            She smiled wickedly, her previous displeasure seemingly washed away by his demeanor, "I've sent Fiore to take care of the interference… he vowed his life that he will not fail me."

            He smiled, running his finger along her jawline to come to a rest at the corner of her mouth, "Now, now, Celeste…" He smirked, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The Klak has dwindled over the years, we cannot afford to lose any more of our kind."

            She pouted, and then purred into his ear, "I didn't say I'd kill him if he failed… but a little torture now and then can't hurt a soul."

            He laughed, his voice cutting like a sharp knife through the air. Ferociously, he bent over her and captured her lips with his own. "You seem a little impatient, my dear Mistress Celesta…"

            Her eyes gleamed golden as a smirk crossed her features, "Then entertain me…"

*          *          *

            Consciousness seemed to evade her for a moment. Buffy groaned inwardly as she realized that she was waking up. It had been the first time since she'd come back that she had actually slept soundly. She felt oddly rested, yet also comfortably fatigued. She reveled in a moment of pure silence as she breathed in slowly. The events of the previous night were slowly beginning to trickle into her mind. A part of her dreaded getting up, she didn't want to have to confront the conversation she knew she would have to have. Carefully, she opened her eyes. They were swollen and puffy from her fit and she found it difficult to open them all the way. With her free arm, she rubbed them awake. She blinked a few times, trying to focus her eyes on what was before her. She found herself face to face with a blank wall. Another moment of silence passed as she tried to reassemble all the events that had happened the night before. _Sadness. Pain. Crying. Comfort. Angel._

            With the last thought, she whirled around quickly on the bed, her arm reaching instinctively for his familiar touch. Her hand fell lamely onto the empty mattress next to her.

            "Angel?" She sat up quickly in the bed, forcing her eyes open.

            Silence.

            "Angel?!" A tone of panic had slipped into her voice.

            "I'm right here…" His voice was warm and close behind her.

            She whirled around quickly, her eyes frantically searching for his figure. Before she could even focus, she felt his weight next to her on the bed.

            "Angel… I thought that…"

            "I'm right here… I promised, remember?" He said reassuringly, taking her into his arms. Gently, he stroked her hair.

            She let out a small sigh of relief, resting her head on his collarbone. She let his presence sink into her and let it take over her senses for a moment.

            "Are you going to be all right?" His voice sounded concerned.

            Slowly, she drew back away from him, leaving the comfort of his body. She sat back on her legs until there was a good foot between them. Almost reflexively, his arms dropped from her shoulders and fell to his sides. She nodded, meeting his gaze. "Yeah… I'll be OK." She said, forcing a small smile, "Thanks… for staying with me last night."

            He nodded, allowing warmth to spread over his expression. "I'm always here for you, Buffy… in one way or another."

            She laughed shakily, at a loss for anything else to do. She looked down at her hands, tucking her hair behind her ear before continuing. "I guess it's the 'one way or another' part we've always had the problems with…"

            The statement was left hanging in the air. She didn't dare look up. She didn't want to see his reaction to her words. Normally, she would be ready for anything life could throw her way… but not today. She didn't want to see his expression harden… she didn't want to see him take all of his feelings and shove them into a box, never to be revealed again.

            "Buffy…"

            "Don't." She cut him off. Her eyes darted to his face, "Let's not… Let's not get into what's happened, or what's happening or what's gonna happen…Let's not get into _us_." She sighed, rubbing her temples tiredly, "Let's just pretend it's not there. Can we do that, Angel? Just leave the problems back in California…"

            He looked at her, his gaze intense. Finally, he nodded, "All right."

            There was a moment of silence during which time she tried to comprehend that he had actually agreed with her. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised, "All right."

            Again another moment of silence.

            Finally, he got up off the bed. He turned to look at her, his hair tousled and his eyes taking on a friendly gleam, "So… what did you want for breakfast?" He held up the room service menu for her to examine.

            She smiled, relieved that the tension had been broken. She walked over to him, taking the menu from him. "I sorta feel like pancakes…"

            "Well then, pancakes it is." He said, picking up the phone and holding it out towards her.

            "But you have to order them…" She insisted, handing the menu back to him.

            He raised an eyebrow, giving her a quizzical look.

            "It was mom's old rule," She said, allowing herself a nostalgic grin, "If I don't order them, I don't get the calories."

*          *          *

            He watched her with a mixture of amusement and wonder. Somehow, she had just managed to devour half a stack of pancakes in a record time of two minutes. A small smile spread over his lips.

            She looked up for a moment, her eyes catching his expression. "What?" She asked, becoming slightly self-conscious.

            He chuckled, "Nothing. Just admiring your ability to consume pancakes."

            She rolled her eyes, eating another forkful.

            The silence that ensued was broken when Angel's coat began to ring. He looked up, rising from his seat on the bed and fishing his cell phone out of his pocket.

            "Go ahead." He said into it, returning his gaze to Buffy as he waited for someone on the other side to answer him.

            "Angel!" Cordelias's voice sounded slightly annoyed, "What happened last night? I called you, and then before I could say anything, you just hung up!"

            "Sorry, Cordy… it was sorta a bad time." He replied, settling himself comfortably on the bed again. He considered for a moment to tell Cordelia about Buffy, but then decided against it. "What's up?"

            "Well," She replied rather excitedly, "Wesley dug up this old book on demons last night and found a little tidbit about the Lanthos."

            "What've you got?" He asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.

            "Well… listen to this and tell me if it makes sense. 'The Klak will assemble and the Guardian will rise, Fire joins Water, which Nature defies. Stars from the Heavens will bring the Frost, and a Life twice mislaid must then be thrice lost. By this, Elevation shall be achieved…'" There, she paused. "And that's it…. That's all we have."

            "What does any of this have to do with the Lanthos demon?" He asked.

            "The Lanthos demon is the Guardian guy that they talked about in the prophecy." Cordelia responded, "Wesley says that sometimes clans or covens have a guardian demon that works for them. You know… sorta like a bouncer, to do all the dirty muscle work."

            "Well, it's a start… What happened to the rest of the prophecy?" He asked.

            At the mention of prophecy, Buffy looked up from her meal. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking him her question. He nodded to her, holding up his hand to motion for her to wait.

            "We don't know." Cordelia was saying, "That's all that was in the book. Wesley says that the rest of the prophecy is probably written in some other dusty, old, dirty book. He says that back in the day, they split up the prophecies in bits and pieces so less people would know about them."

            "All right, Cordy. Thanks. Please keep looking. I'll try to figure out what else I can get here."

" 'K. Talk to you later then! Hope you're having fun in Chicago!"

"Bye." He sighed, turning his phone off.

            "What's going on?" Buffy walked over to him and stood before him, "I heard the word prophecy."

            He nodded, "Yeah… Wesley found a few lines in one of his books. I'm not quite sure what all of it means yet, but it talked about the demon I'm looking for."

            She sat down next to him on the bed, her legs crossed. "What did it say?"

            He squinted his eyes, straining to remember, "Something about the Klak will assemble and the Guardian will rise… the Guardian is the one I'm after."

            "And the Klak is what I'm after." She said very quietly. "According to Giles, the Journeyers like to call themselves the Klak, it means family or something in their code."

            He sighed, leaning his back up against the headboard. "So it's not so much of a coincidence after all that we ended up in the same place."

            "Nope. Apparently not." She looked at him thoughtfully, tilting her head to one side.

            "What?" He asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

            She smiled, shaking her head. "Nothing." She shrugged. "Just thinking…what was the prophecy?"

            He cocked his head, dragging Cordelia's words back from his memory. He retrieved a pen and some hotel stationary from the nightstand and began to write down as much as he could remember. He could feel Buffy's eyes on him as she watched him scribble out the words. She remained silent, as if she were afraid to break his concentration. She leaned towards him, craning her neck to get a better view of the pad. He found that distracting enough. Just feeling the heat coming off of her body so close to his own, he had to use every fiber of his two hundred and forty-six years of control to not touch her. Still, he forced his mind back onto his current task.

            "A Life twice mislaid must then be thrice lost…" She read the words as he wrote them. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

            "What?" He asked, detecting fear in her posture.

            "A Life twice mislaid… that's me… it's talking about me." She said quietly, "I've died twice. My life has been mislaid twice…"

            He shook his head, trying to calm her down, "No. We can't be sure about that." Though his voice was calm, his mind was doing turns. He couldn't bear the thought of Buffy having to go up against this demon alone. He had just found her; he didn't want to lose her again.

            "But it makes sense… don't you see?" She asked, pointing at the paper, "the Prophecy talks about the Klak. It is when the Klak rises that all of this happens." She directed her finger towards herself, "And I was sent here to stop the Klak. The Council sent me here, they must know about this…"

            "The Council sent you here?" He asked, bewildered. "I thought you quit the Council…"

            She nodded, "So did I." She sighed, shifting her position on the bed so that she was sitting next to him, her back against the headboard. "But all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the Council went and contacted Giles. They wanted me here in Chicago… there has to be a reason for it."

            "You're the Slayer," He countered, "That's reason enough."

            "No!" She exclaimed, "Don't you see?" She read the sentence again, "A Life twice mislaid must then be thrice lost… I'm one of the ingredients to this prophecy. I have to lose my life again, I have to die…"

            "No." He said firmly, his eyes capturing hers with his fierce gaze, "You're not going to die, Buffy. I'm not going to let you. I was sent here for a reason too. Otherwise, Cordelia wouldn't have had the vision. This is not your battle to fight. At least, it's not yours to fight alone."

            She opened her mouth, as if to protest. But she was caught by his intense eyes. He had made a decision, and she wasn't going to change it. He had been sent here for a reason, and it certainly wasn't to see the love of his life die while he stood there being helpless. "We're in this together." He finally said.

            She swallowed slowly. She blinked and broke the eye contact. She looked away, her eyes finding some interesting pattern in the sheets. "Angel… the prophecy says…"

            "The prophecy didn't say that you were going to die, Buffy." He replied, "So let's just assume that the Life twice mislaid _is_ talking about you… that still doesn't mean you're going to die. That only happens if the Elevation is to be completed… if we stop this Elevation, it'll never happen." He had moved closer to her now, so that he face was nearly touching hers. He wanted nothing more than to be able to protect her, to stop whatever might threaten her. "We're going to stop this… all right?"

            She nodded slowly, "All right…" She finally said. She didn't try to move away from him. Her eyes shifted back so that she was looking at him again. In them, he saw her determination. She was a warrior, and she certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight. _That's my Buffy… _Inwardly, he smiled.

            A comfortable silence had settled in, and for a few moments, they just stared at each other, their noses only inches apart. Neither made a move to be closer or to draw back. They seemed just content to stay where they were.

            "So…" Angel finally said. His voice sounded so loud to him after the long silence, "We should probably figure out what this Elevation thing is…"

            "Yeah…" She agreed quietly, her eyes never leaving his. "We should…" She shifted slightly.

He blinked, suddenly realizing that he was unbelievably close to her. He swallowed very slowly and drew back, moving away from her. "Yeah…" He said shakily, trying to wipe the memory of her touch from his mind, "So… where should we start?"

She paused before replying, wrapping her arms around herself almost protectively. She shrugged, "I'll call Giles. Maybe he can find out some more about this whole thing… he might even be able to find the rest of the prophecy in one of his books."

"Good idea." He agreed quickly, getting up from the bed. "We're going to stop this, Buffy."

Her voice was quiet as she replied, "I hope you're right."

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	7. Chapter Seven

**~*Seven*~**

_"Live, for the one you love,_

_Love, as you've never loved,_

_Give, asking nothing in return…"_

_--Celine Dion_

The sun had just set as Buffy walked out onto her balcony. The Chicago nightscape stretched out before her. Her eyes wandered over the building tops, not really even seeing anything. Her mind was numb. She had slipped into auto-pilot mode. It wasn't as if she'd never had her life threatened before; stopping the apocalypse was part of her job description. And yet, somehow, she was still scared out of her mind. For once, she didn't have the home court advantage. She was on someone else's turf, and she didn't even know the rules of the game. She felt as if it was her first time slaying again, where she didn't know what to do, how to act, or where to start… And then there was Angel.

            Of course, she was relieved that he was there for her. She was glad that at least she had someone on her side; she wouldn't have to fight alone. But it was hard working with him again. It felt so weird, being side by side with him, planning strategies and discussing prophecies… it was just like it used to be. But things were different. She knew it. And he knew it. She couldn't just lean into his strength when she was tired, and when she talked face to face with him, she always kept a six-inch barrier. She pretended not to notice. When his hands brushed accidentally against her arm, she pretended not to feel it. But that didn't stop her heart from doing somersaults, or keep her breath from quickening. Though her mind knew that things were different, her heart refused to admit that it was true.

            She shook her head, finally remembering why she had come out onto the balcony in the first place. She retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and turned it on, dialing Giles' number. Behind her, she could hear Angel entering her bedroom. She didn't turn around; she continued to stare out at the starry night sky as the ringing on the line droned on.

            Finally, an out-of-breath Giles picked up the phone, "Hello?"

            She blinked, finding her voice, "Um… hi Giles. It's me."

            "Buffy…" His tone became immediately less formal, "How are things going in Chicago? Did you get in touch with some of the people at the Crown?"

            "Yeah." She replied, "Yeah, I did. They were sorta helpful."

            "Buffy? All you all right? You sound a little distant… did something happen?" His voice took on a tone of fatherly concern.

            "I… uh…" She took a deep breath, "I ran into Angel here in Chicago."

            Buffy could almost imagine Giles' bewildered expression in the silence that ensued. "You-you-you ran into Angel?" He stuttered.

            "Yeah." She breathed again, rubbing her hand up and down her arm to keep herself warm, "Cordelia had a vision about some demon that was supposed to be here and so he came to investigate. Anyways… the demon that he was after is called a Lanthos, sound familiar?"

            "Lanthos…" Giles repeated the name slowly, as if trying to jog his memory, "Yes. I believe I've heard of it before. Yes, yes… the Lanthos demon is a guardian demon."

            "Yeah." Buffy replied, "Apparently, it's the Guardian Demon of the Journeyers… Anyways, Wesley found a part of a prophecy about the Klak and the Lanthos in one of his books. We were wondering if you might be able to find of the rest of it in some of your own books…"

            "Well, I can't promise anything. I could search through what I have… Are you sure you're all right over there?" He was still stuttering.

            "Yeah, I'm fine, Giles. Things are under control… for the moment. But the sooner we get the rest of that prophecy, the better I'd feel." She insisted.

            "Yes, yes, I understand. I meant, are you sure you're all right… with Angel?" He asked, his voice becoming softer.

            She paused, unsure of how to answer, "Yeah… things are OK. I'm," She took a deep breath, "I'm dealing with things." She turned around, peering through the curtains at Angel's figure inside the room. He was sitting on her bed, a pen and pad in hand. He was bent over it in concentration, his dark features dramatically lit by the golden yellow lamps in the room. She found herself becoming lost, just staring at him.

            "All right." Giles' voice brought her back to reality, "Be careful, Buffy… I'll call back as soon as I find anything on this prophecy of yours."

            "Thanks, Giles." She replied, forcing her mind off of Angel. She turned back around to look at the glittering lights on the street below, "I'll keep in touch." She waited until she heard him hang up before she turned and walked back into the bedroom, grateful to get out of the cold.

            Upon hearing the balcony door close, Angel looked up from his work. His eyes immediately found her and he rose. "Did you get in touch with Giles?"

            She nodded, fingering her cell phone, "Yeah, I did. He said that he'd look through his books and see if he can find anything useful. He promised to call back as soon as he gets anything."

            Angel nodded, throwing the pad onto the mattress and running a hand through his hair. "That's good… Hopefully, between him and Wesley, someone will find the rest of the prophecy."

            Buffy shrugged, half-leaning, half-sitting on the desk behind her. "What should we do till then? I don't like just sitting around waiting to be killed… it generally makes me jittery."

            He sighed, walking over to stand next to her, "Buffy, we can't run into this thing blind. For all we know, the Klak don't even know you're here. The longer we can keep it that way, the better."

            She shook her head, looking at him, "I'm the Slayer, Angel. I don't hide. I fight. I'm going to have to face them sooner or later, why not now?"

            "What?" He asked, slightly exasperated, "And get killed? That certainly won't help…"

            "I'm a big girl." She replied, her voice rising, "If you haven't noticed, I've dedicated six years of my life to this stuff. I'm not some reckless little high schooler anymore. I know what I'm supposed to do, and I know how to do it."

He looked at her, shifting his weight slightly. "I know that, Buffy. I just think we should wait until we know a little more about what we're up against. It'd be nice to at least know how to kill this Lanthos demon if we come up against it… we have to be prepared. This isn't just a couple of vamps we're talking about…this is big."

            "I've done big before, Angel." She retorted, her voice steady. "I've done the Apocalypse, I've done the End of Days, I've done the whole Ascension deal… I can handle it. I'm not your responsibility… I'm not some helpless innocent that you have to protect. I'm the Slayer. Sacrificing myself for the world isn't just my job; it's my Destiny… Why can't you see that? You didn't see it two and a half years ago, and you don't see it right now… You told me when you left that you wanted me to find a normal life…" She gestured wildly with her hands, indicating the whole room with her arms. "Well this _is_ my normal life." Her voice hardened and her eyes became steeled with determination, "I'll never be a normal girl, Angel. I have to live my life as if I'll never see tomorrow… cause chances are, I won't…"

            "And that's why I don't want you running into this!" He said, cutting her off. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands firm. "I can't lose you again, Buffy. I can't. I know you've changed and I know you've grown… I know that you've become ten times the girl that I used to know… but that doesn't change anything." He shook her, his finger tightening around her arms, afraid to let her go.

            She found herself at a loss for words, her thoughts lost in the emotions that were tumbling in his chocolate eyes. She had never expected this from him. She had always been the one to lose her temper and start the tirades; she had never expected him to come back with such passion. He was supposed to be the rational one, the one that thinks things out before taking action. He was supposed to be scolding her for being rash… not spilling out his feelings.

His voice continued to go on, dropping to a softer tone now. His eyes never left hers, "When I look at you, I still see the same passion and courage that I saw six years ago when you were called. I lost that once, I don't want to lose it again. When Willow told me you had died, I didn't know what to do with myself. I don't know how to live without you, Buffy. And I'm scared. I'm scared that if I let you go out there, you won't come back. And I can't live with that…"

            He trailed off, the anger and tension in the air replaced by the hum of the lamp. They were both breathing hard, and neither of them were quite sure of what they had just said. She felt as if she were dreaming, she wanted to say something… but she found that her lips refused to move.

            "Anne!!"

            A figure came running through the door to her bedroom and she could hear the hotel door bang loudly against the wall, as if it had been thrown open.

            The two were torn away from their thoughts. Buffy blinked, forcing her eyes off of Angel. She whipped her head around, her gaze landing on the boy who had interrupted their conversation. Without another thought, she shook Angel's firm grasp from her shoulders and ran towards the young man.

            "Matt?" She asked, picking up a small bag of weapons that she had packed earlier, "What's going on?"

            He was out of breath. He put one hand on the chair next to him to steady himself. He was bent over, gulping in breaths of air as he peered up at her. "There's never been so many of them… they… they attacked a few blocks from here. They took us completely by surprise…"

            "Who?" She asked. Her hand flew to his arm as she tried to will him to speak faster, "Vampires?"

            He nodded vigorously, "There were only three of us. I… I didn't know what to do… my friends are still down there. I…I…I came to get help…"

            "You came to right place." She said, already heading out the door. "We'll take care of this. Get yourself cleaned up and wait here at the hotel. Don't worry about your friends; they'll be OK. I promise."

            She rushed out of the hotel room. Angel quickly caught up to her, matching her stride for stride as they walked towards the elevators. Without even thinking, she took a large stake from within the bag and held it out towards him as they walked. He took it, pocketing it in his coat without even a glance, their previous conversation already forgotten in light of the new emergency. A part of her marveled at how easily and fluidly they had slipped back into their old routine. But she turned that part of her off. It was time to get down to business.

*          *          *

            A sound high kick followed immediately by a right jab brought the vampire down to its knees. With one fluid motion, Angel staked it and whirled around to face his next opponent.

            There were a little over a dozen vampires when they had arrived, and the dust that covered the freshly fallen snow seemed to speak of others that had already been destroyed before their entrance. The vampires had taken two humans, a young woman and an older man, as hostages. Angel let his gaze wander towards them now, trying to assess how much distance he'd have to cover.

            A roar next to his left ear warned him of an impending attack. He struck out with his left arm, while throwing another opponent a few yards with his right. A twinge of pain shot up his shoulder, reminding him of his last encounter with this group. He swore, shifting his position to favor his right arm. He switched the stake to his left hand easily.

            He delivered a sharp roundhouse to the vampire behind him, his stake already coming in fast towards the enemy's chest. Before it could even let out another cry, it was turned swiftly into a pile of dust.

            "Angel!"

            He turned, seeing a flash of blond hair run past him. Buffy's slight figure was lithe and graceful as it landed a strong punch into another vampire's chest. A growl behind him grabbed Angel's attention for a moment. Without even thinking, he jabbed out with his left arm, taking out the vampire that had attacked.

            "Get the humans! I'll clean up here!" She ordered him, already moving away from him and towards the horde before her.

            He nodded his acknowledgement, realizing that she wasn't even looking at him. He turned his attention to the two hostages that had been thrown against the wall to his right. They were battered and beaten and sported a few nasty looking bruises and cuts. He ran towards them, listening to the roar of fighting behind him. Somehow, he knew his back was safe with Buffy protecting it. He didn't stop running until he reached the two humans. A sweeping kick and a sharp elbow to the ribs took care of the vamps that tried to get in his way and some unlucky vamp got a sharp stake in the heart.

            "You have to get out of here." He said to humans once he was in hearing distance. He whirled around, shoving off a persistent vampire that didn't seem to want to give up. He turned back around to face the humans before him.

            The girl was looking at him with frightened eyes, her fingers clutching at the remainder of a wooden stake. The older man just nodded, putting a firm hand on his companion.

            "Now!" Angel persisted, trying to get them to move, all too aware of the dangers that surrounded them.

            Without another word, the two turned and ran towards the corner where the hotel lay only a few blocks away. He watched them leave, waiting until they had gotten a few yards out of danger before turning his attention back to the fight.

            The remaining vampires were crowding around Buffy but none of them were able to get within an arms reach of her. They had formed a crude circle around her, practically surrounding her, but she didn't look worried. Mechanically, she took them out one by one. He could see some of their courage begin to falter and the weaker ones began to fall back in fear. A smirk of pure foolish pride crossed his expression as he watched her fight. There was one vampire who kept himself withdrawn from the group. He was dressed very differently, his body clad in a long, red robe. His face was vamped out, and yet he did not join the fight. He stood off the side, silently appraising the whole situation with golden eyes.

            Angel ran towards the observer, whom he decided was their ringleader. His fingers tightened around his stake and he formed a fist with his other hand, ready for an encounter.

            As if sensing the impending attack, the vampire suddenly looked over in Angel's direction. His eyes grew wide for a moment, as if realization dawned upon him. Angel expected him to brace for a fight. But to his surprise, the vampire turned and began to run away.

            "Fall for the Klak!" The vampire was screaming over his shoulder as he fled. Angel persisted in the chase, rapidly gaining distance on his victim.

            Another rush of speed and a kick of pure adrenaline awakened in his body. Something inside of him was telling him he couldn't let this one go. He felt himself change and with the change came a heightened awareness of the need to hunt. He growled, his mind concentrating on the task before him.

            "Angel!"

            Her voice penetrated his thoughts and brought his feet to a rapid halt. He turned, his sharp night eyes finding her form quickly. For some reason, the vampires had suddenly started to attack even more vigorously. Now, they held nothing back. It was as if they were on a suicide mission. There were at least six of them and Buffy couldn't hold all of them off in this heightened state.

            Angel swore, throwing one more glance down the dark street towards the rapidly shrinking figure of the vampire who had given the order. A low growl came from Angel's throat before he turned and ran back towards Buffy. By the time he got there, there were only four vampires left.

            With the element of surprise on his side, he managed to stake one of them without even slowing his momentum. He rammed another one to the ground with the sheer force behind his charge. His stake found its target within seconds and he twirled, all too ready to face what came next.

            Buffy had taken down one more during his attack, leaving only one poor, unfortunate vampire to face the wrath of both of them. Buffy kicked the vampire squarely in the chest, sending its body flying in Angel's direction. He tightened his grip on the stake, holding it out before him. The wood slid fluidly into the vampire's back and soon what remained was only a large pile of dust.

            The lust for the kill began to calm in his veins and he looked around, finding that they were now alone in the street. He kicked at the fine layer of dust that had accumulated atop the trampled snow. He slowly changed back, and he felt himself coming down from the high that was rushing through his body.

            "You all right?" He heard Buffy's voice close to him and he turned to face her.

            He nodded, "Yeah. The leader got away." He pointed towards the direction in which the vampire had fled, "But we got the rest. The hostages are safe, I think they went back to the hotel."

            She nodded, flipping the stake in her hand a couple of times, "Maybe we should go join them." She grinned, her eyes glistening with mischief, "That was fun!" She walked past him towards the hotel, a bounce in her step.

            He watched her go, his eyes trained on her small form retreating into the dark. He allowed himself a small chuckle and shook his head before he rushed to catch up with her.

*          *          *

            "Mistress!"

            Celesta looked up, her expression one of pure annoyance, "What is it, Fiore? Where have you been?"

            The vampire was out of breath, his red robe covered in snow, "Mistress, I have news for you."

            "Have you taken care of the disturbance?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of her as she watched her servant bow before her.

            He paused, hesitating before speaking, "I… I was unable to dispatch of the interference. They were both there this time… the girl and the vampire. They were too strong… we lost more of our servants."

            She growled, seizing the vampire by the folds of his robe. She glared at him with golden-green eyes, "I hope… for your sake, Fiore… that you have something better to tell me than this."

            His mouth flapped open and closed a few times before any words came out. "I… I do… Mistress. I have good news for you… one of them was the One."

            She let got of him immediately, her mood becoming complacent. "The One?" She purred, "You've found the One that the Prophecy speaks of? The One we are to kill to achieve Elevation?"

            He nodded numbly, pleased that at her apparent satisfaction, "Yes…yes… I am sure of it. I have found the One… But… the girl… the girl was strong. Stronger than other humans… She is different…"

            "A Slayer…" Celesta whispered; her eyes alight with pleasure, "All the more fun for our little game." She grinned, "The Slayer and the One all wrapped up into a nice little package… how nice." Her eyes glowed with anticipation, "You have served me well tonight, Fiore. I am pleased with you. You shall be rewarded for this. Go now. I will come to you shortly."

            The vampire bowed, turning around and scurrying into the darkness. Celesta watched the retreating figure with detached observation. A small smirk passed over her lips, "Our Elevation draws near… all the pieces have fallen into place…"

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	8. Chapter Eight

**~*Eight*~**

_"There's just no rhyme or reason,_

_Only a sense of completion,_

_And in your eyes,_

_I see the missing pieces,_

_And searching for,_

_I think I found my way home…"_

_-- Savage Garden_

            Buffy sighed as she entered the hotel, adjusting the strap of her weapons bag on her shoulder. She could feel Angel following closely behind her, which made her feel somehow reassured. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright, welcoming light of the hotel lobby. She stopped, her gaze searching for someone she would know.

            "Anne!" Matt's voice grabbed her attention.

            She looked over to see the young man standing next to a conference room. He motioned with his arm for her to join him. She nodded, throwing a quick glance to Angel to communicate her message.

            An almost imperceptible nod from him assured her that he would go with her. With a heavy sigh, she followed the young man into the conference room. Once inside, she saw the two civilians they had rescued from the alley.

            "Miss Summers." The older man got up to greet her. He spoke with a heavy British accent. He wore a three-piece suit, and a pair of immaculate spectacles atop his nose. "I am very honored to meet you." He extended his hand towards her.

            She nodded, letting the weapons bag slide from her shoulder and fall to the floor. She took the man's hand in her own and shook it firmly, "I'm not sure why you'd be honored… but thank you." She replied.

            He smiled, "My name is Alfred Sheffield. I am a former member of the Watcher's Council. I was contacted by Mr. Travers from England about your stay in our city…"

            Buffy winced slightly at the sound of the Head of the Watcher's Council's name. She forced a tight smile, "It's nice to meet you Mr. Sheffield." She said, forcing herself to be polite.

            He cleared his throat, wiping his face with a handkerchief from his coat pocket. "I have to say, Lily and I are grateful for your timely arrival in the alley…"

            "Oh," She grinned, "no problem. Matt said you needed some help… 'sides, it's sorta my job. You know, slaying vampires."

            He nodded, "Even so, we are deeply indebted to you and to..." He looked at her quizzically, his eyes traveling from her face to the man standing silently, almost protectively, behind her.

            She raised an eyebrow, as she turned to look around. "Oh…" She said, feeling a slight bit foolish, "Um… this is Angel." She said, indicating her companion.

            Angel stepped forward slightly, his expression ever serious and somber. He nodded slightly but said nothing.

            Alfred acknowledged the other man with a warm smile before returning his attention to Buffy. "I was informed by Mr. Travers that you are here on a mission… he said something about a gang of vampires. I believe they are known as the Journeyers?"

            Buffy nodded, leaning against the table's edge. "Yeah. They also go by the Klak. I'm still trying to collect all the info on them."

            The former Watcher looked over at the girl standing next to him. The young woman, whom he had referred to as Lily, quickly held out a large book towards him. He took it, flipping through its dusty pages. Finally he stopped and set it down in front of Buffy. He looked meaningfully at her for a moment.

            Buffy raised an eyebrow, leaning over the tome to get a better look. Angel stepped in next to her, craning his neck to get a good view of the book. His body brushed ever so slightly against her own. She held back a shiver, trying not to take delight in this small amount of contact. She forced her mind to concentrate on the words that strew the pages before her. The text was written in curly, old script. The language was equally archaic and it took her a moment to adjust. Her eyes scanned over the page quickly, finally coming to a rest at a few lines that stood out from the rest of the text. They were written in red ink and were heavily slanted, as if in italics. They were captured within a set of quotation marks, and grabbed her attention the moment she saw them.

            "…only by Tith shall it be deceived. Wielded by the Slayer, her Warrior by her side, with the strength of Both the Klak shall be defied. Through the torment, the Warrior must stay strong, fight for the Justice and not for the Wrong. Else the Earth and her Children shall be lit aflame, Elevation attained shall Humanity maim." Angel read the lines out loud, his voice low and full of weight. The moment he finished the last line, Buffy looked up at him, her eyes immediately finding his. She saw determination mixed with only a small amount of fear in his gaze. His hand had found its way to her arm and was now holding it gently but firmly.

            "The Prophecy…" She whispered, suddenly unaware of the others in the room. "It's the rest of the Prophecy…"

            Angel nodded slowly, swallowing.

            "You mean there's more to this?" Matt piped up, his eyes going wide. "We searched through practically every book in the whole hotel, but we didn't find any other references to this vampire gang."

            Buffy blinked, forcing her mind back to the present. She looked over at Matt. "Yeah." She finally said, "There are a few lines that come before this. We found them in some of our own books…"

            "We were unsure of what to make of all of this." Alfred admitted, nudging the book towards Buffy, "But we saw mention of the Slayer in it. We thought it would be wise to give it to you."

            "Thank you." She said, running her fingers over the worn page. She forced a tight smile, "This is a ton of help… hopefully, with this, we'll be able to stop the Klak when the time comes."

            Lily yawned tiredly, one of her hands brushing over her battered face.

            As if on cue, Alfred closed the book and handed it to Buffy, "Anything we can do to help the Slayer." He said warmly, "Especially one who has so generously saved our lives today."

            "We'll get on this right away." Buffy took the book in her arms, hugging its heavy weight to her chest, "and we'll keep you updated on anything that comes up." She looked towards Angel.

            He nodded and began to walk towards the door. Buffy quickly followed, nodding her goodbye to the three in the room, "It was nice meeting you." She said quickly, "Thank you again for the help!"

            She waited until the door closed behind her before she looked towards Angel. He was watching her with an intent gaze. Neither said anything as they made their way towards the elevators. For the moment, Buffy was glad that she didn't have to talk. She wasn't quite sure what would have come out of her mouth if she had been forced to speak. The elevator ride was short and silent. Somehow, without even discussing it, they both had decided to go to Buffy's room on the 12th floor. It wasn't until they had reached the safety of the room did someone finally break the silence.

            "I should probably call Giles and tell him about this." Buffy said, taking her coat off and throwing it on the recliner while setting the book down on the coffee table. She walked into her own room, leaving Angel in the living room.

            "Yeah, and Wesley too." Angel's voice was slightly muffled by the wall that separated them.

            Buffy sighed, gently working her fingers into the taunt muscles of her neck as she looked at the clock. It was only eleven, still very early by Slayer standards. She had the sinking feeling that it was going to be a long night. She took off the heavy sweater she was wearing, trading it for a lighter cream-colored turtleneck. As she walked back out towards the living room, she picked up her brush off the nightstand.

            Angel had settled himself on the couch. His coat had been discarded on the recliner next to her own. She stopped in the doorway just to observe him. He was carefully massaging the muscles in his right shoulder and upper arm. He was sitting at one end of the couch; his back leaned comfortably against the cushions. She watched him for a few moments before making her way silently towards him.

            As if sensing her presence, he looked up at her as she approached.

            "You should change the bandage." She said, already picking up the med kit from where she had discarded it the previous night.

            He shrugged, his hand sliding away from his injury. "It's pretty much healed. Just a little sore."

            "You can never be too cautious." She replied, sitting down next to him on the couch, "Besides… I'm getting the feeling we're going to need you at full strength soon."

            He nodded his agreement. His expression became darker as he thought of the coming battle.

            She opened the med kit, already taking out fresh bandages, tape, and rubbing alcohol. Without even a second thought, she reached over towards him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

            "We're going to have to figure out how to decrypt this Prophecy." His voice was soft and close to her ear as she carefully pulled the silky material from his injured shoulder.

            "Yeah," She replied, reaching for the scissors with one hand and the book with the other. "I know." She laid the book down on his lap and then proceeded to work on removing the old bandage with the scissors.

            With his free hand, he began to flip through the large volume. He opened the book to the page they had read before. His eyes skimmed over the lines again, trying to memorize them.

            She snuck a glance at the page open on his lap as she worked to redress the wound. "Boy, they really knew how to be concise back in the day." She commented, her fingers working diligently, "who knew you could pack that much info into fourteen lines?"

            "Yeah," His voice was soft as his fingers brushed over the words in red ink. He sighed. With his free hand, he retrieved the notepad they had been working on from the coffee table. On the first page, the first couple lines of the Prophecy had already been written out. Now, he picked up a pen and proceeded to copy the rest of the words onto the page. When he was finished, he held the pad away from him, as if assessing what he saw there.

            Buffy quickly finished taping the new bandage into place. She ran her fingers along his shoulder, making sure it was tight enough. She felt his muscles relax under her touch and she allowed a small smile to creep over her lips. Carefully, she pulled his shirt back over the wound. She let her hand drop into her lap when she was done. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, reveling in the harmony that the silence had brought. Even with the world in danger, somehow she felt safe and content to be just sitting on the couch next to Angel.

            When she opened her eyes again, she found herself staring into two dark pools of chocolate. The notepad had been forgotten and now lay on his lap, next to the book. He was only an inch away from her. His nose almost brushing her own. She felt her heartbeat begin to quicken and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes wandered slowly from his gaze down to his lips. A part of her was screaming to back away, before she could give into temptation. But the rest of her was telling her to just lean in that one more inch to close the schism that two and a half years had created. She was torn by the decision she knew she'd have to make.

            But, instead, he made it for her. Slowly, as if not to scare her, he withdrew from her. He leaned away, widening the gap between their lips and their hopes. She watched him, ignoring the twinge of pain that had begun to rise in her chest. No matter how much they wanted it, they knew they couldn't go back. They couldn't just forget the past two and a half years… because eventually, it would catch up with them.

            She suddenly began to feel very light-headed, and she finally realized that she had forgotten to breath. Shakily, she took in a large breath of air, letting it flow into her chest and remind her where she was. He, too, took in a breath of unneeded oxygen, his eyes averting her face.

            "So…" She said shakily, picking up the notepad from his lap, "What've we got?"

            "Um…" He blinked a few times, refocusing his attention on the words before him. "Not quite sure yet. There are some things that just don't seem to make sense."

            She nodded, forcing her heart to forget the moment they had just shared. She began to read the words aloud, as if hearing the words might reveal something more than just reading them.

"The Klak will assemble and the Guardian will rise,

Fire joins Water, which Nature defies.

Stars from the Heavens will bring the Frost,

And a Life twice mislaid must then be thrice lost.

By this, Elevation shall be achieved,

Only by Tith shall it be deceived.

Wielded by the Slayer, her Warrior by her side,

With the strength of Both the Klak shall be defied.

Through the torment, the Warrior must stay strong,

Fight for the Justice and not for the Wrong.

Else the Earth and her Children shall be lit aflame,

Elevation attained shall Humanity maim."

            "Well," He commented after she had finished reading the Prophecy. "We know one thing for sure." He pointed to the middle of the passage, "You and I are definitely key ingredients in this recipe."

            She nodded, "The Slayer and her Warrior…" She said, looking up at him, "That's us."

            He grinned lopsidedly, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. "I can't say they're very original with the titles… always the same ones."

            She chuckled, rolling her head slowly from one side to the other to stretch her neck muscles. "I say it's time to put on our Giles caps and get researching." She looked at him, "This calls for coffee and doughnuts!" She stopped in mid-thought, cocking her head to one side, "Do you think they have doughnuts on the room service menu?"

            He laughed, "Not sure… but you'll probably be able to find a fitting replacement if they don't."

            Satisfied by that thought, she got off the couch and retrieved the room service menu from the table; she looked over at him, "Anything to drink for you?" She asked.

            He shook his head, "No, I'm good. I'm already jittery as it is, I don't think caffeine is a good idea tonight."

            "Suit yourself." She said with shrug, already having seized the cordless phone from its base stand.

*          *          *

            Angel looked wearily over at the analog clock that sat atop the fireplace mantle. He sighed, it was almost 3:00 in the morning. He looked back down at the large book that lay out before him, the words on the page not making any more sense than they had four hours ago. After room service had arrived with pastries galore, they had gotten down to doing some serious research. They had pushed back the couches and the coffee table to make a lot of empty research space in the middle of the living room floor. Now, Buffy lay sprawled out on the large oriental rug with a laptop in front of her, scrolling randomly down the page. Off to one side were several empty mugs that had at one point been filled to the brim with coffee. A few forgotten doughnuts still lay atop the room service cart, Angel had no doubt that given time, they would be gone too.

            A resigned groan from the direction of the computer assured him that he wasn't the only one who wasn't getting anywhere.

            Buffy peaked her head up from over the laptop. She yawned, stretching for a moment, "So… have you found anything?"

            He shook his head, shifting his position so that he was leaning up against the wall. He flipped another page in the book in front of him, to prove his point, "Nada. I can't find any mention of this Tith thing at all… and nowhere does it give a clue where this is supposed to take place." He rubbed a tired hand over the ridge of his eyebrow, letting his spine relax against the wall behind him. "Where Fire joins Water… what do you suppose that means?"

            She sat up, giving the laptop another cursory glance, "I don't know. I don't know this city well enough. Maybe it's talking about some special effects show… you know, where they light the water on fire? I've seen them do it before… well, not seen them, seen them, but I saw them do it on a Christmas special in Vegas on TV."

            He nodded, "Yeah, I wonder if they ever have shows like that in Chicago." He looked at her, "But that would mean there would be a lot of people around."

            "Oh, boy." She closed her eyes for a moment, "Don't you just love the big gatherings where there are all those innocents standing by, just waiting to get mauled and killed?" Her tone was sarcastic.

            "He shrugged, "If that's what it is… I don't think we have a choice. It seems to me that everything has already been predetermined."

            She groaned, making a face at him, "I'm really getting tired of this own predestination thing. It gets really old after a few armageddons."

            He smiled, edging his way towards where she had situated herself on the floor. "Again… I don't think we have a choice."

            She looked at him ruefully, stifling a yawn. "And what the heck is Tith?" She asked, looking back down at the Prophecy they had both copied over a dozen times already. "I mean… 'Elevation shall be achieved, only by Tith shall it be deceived.' OK, so we know that this Tith is what's going to stop the Elevation. But is it a person? A thing? Maybe a demon?" She looked at him, "How are we supposed to use it or him or whatever it is, if we don't know what it is?"

            He watched the frustration overcome her features. Inwardly, he chuckled, Buffy had never been one to sit around and do research… that had always been Giles' department. He took the page that she was currently brandishing at him from her fingers. He flattened it out on the ground, drawing her attention back to the words, "Well, that line is immediately followed by 'wielded by the Slayer.' I'll bet you anything that this Tith is a weapon of some sort… something that you have to wield."

            "Yeah," She agreed grudgingly, "And I'll bet you it's a sword." She stuck her tongue out, "It's always a sword. You'd think they'd get a little more original once in a while. I mean… I wouldn't mind using an axe sometime, or maybe a quarterstaff. But no, it's always a sword." She waved her hands around, "I guess it just doesn't look menacing enough if I go in wielding a mace or something."

            Her words immediately brought the image to his head. He could imagine her barging into a warehouse, a large mace in hand and determination in her eyes. He looked at her, "Actually… that would probably look pretty menacing…"

            She rolled her eyes, nudging his good shoulder lightly, "You know what I mean." She yawned again, blinking her eyes a few times to refocus.

            He leaned over her, looking at the document she had pulled up on the computer. He sighed, and shook his head. "I don't think we're going to get much further tonight… Our best bet is to get in touch with Giles and Wesley, see if they can find anything more about this. Their collections will definitely be bigger than this." He motioned to the one book that lay abandoned on the floor.

            She sighed defiantly, looking back forlornly at her laptop. She yawned tiredly, her eyes beginning to droop with fatigue. "I dunno… I feel like we're not getting anywhere. I'll bet the Klak are just sitting around, already having this thing figured out, and just waiting for us to come along…"

            He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "They're probably just as lost as we are." He said, getting up off the floor. He picked up the discarded mugs that lay strewn on the rug and set them back on the room service cart. "We still have time. The Prophecy will still be there in the morning." He turned around to look at her meaningfully.

            She had lain back down on the rug, her body curled comfortably into a ball. She had her arms folded beneath her, and used them as a pillow for her head. Her eyes were shut, and she only let out a small mumble to acknowledge his comment.

            He smiled gently, watching as she nuzzled her head against her arms to be more comfortable. He hadn't realized how tired she must have been. For him, the nighttime was when he was most active and at work, but it was bedtime for her and the past few nights had not been gentle with her. The vampire's expression melted into one of silent awe as he watched her small form fall asleep.

            She looked so innocent and vulnerable like that. He knew that very few people ever got to see her with her defenses totally down. The past two and half years had taken their toll on her. She was older now, and more mature. She had scars both internal and external that could attest to too many battles fought. But she still looked so beautiful when she was asleep. She looked like nothing could touch her; she was a being from heaven… _literally_. He reminded himself. He waited until her breathing became shallow and even before he moved from his position next to the room service cart. He walked next to her and knelt down over her. Carefully, he eased her into his arms. On instinct, she moved her head into the crook of his neck. Each breath she breathed tickled his long-dead senses. He gently picked her up and slowly walked into her room. Carefully, he lay her down in her bed. He sat down on it next to her, marveling at her silent elegance.

            With a trembling hand, he brushed the hair from her face. Her skin felt like silk beneath his fingers. Feelings that he had long buried now resurfaced, as they always did when she was around. A sharp tug at his heart reminded him that this was his soulmate; this was his reason to live… his ticket to happiness. A smile spread over lips, though he had to fight to keep it from turning into a frown. He had known this girl for only six years, and yet it felt like an eternity. He had had a soul for century now, but it wasn't until he had met her that he had realized why. She looked like a young girl when she was asleep. A girl that shouldn't have to face the monsters and demons. She deserved more than that. She deserved to be a fairy tale princess…

            Slowly and quietly, he leaned over her, his lips longing for just a touch of her skin. He paused over her mouth, his eyes examining the beautiful curves and full flesh of her lips. He fought the temptation to feel them against his own. He knew that it wouldn't be fair to her. He closed his eyes, leaning over her and planting a firm but gentle kiss on her forehead. A small, content sigh escaped her own lips as she shifted in her sleep.

            He drew back from her, his lips on fire with her touch. Carefully, he got up and pulled the covers around her to keep her warm. He backed away towards the door, his eyes never leaving her face, trying to make sure that she didn't wake up. He stopped in the doorway, leaning against its sturdy frame. He studied her for one more moment.

            "Good night, love." He finally whispered quietly as he turned around and left her to her dreams.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	9. Chapter Nine

**~*Nine*~**

_"I need you tonight,_

_I need you right now,_

_I know deep inside my heart,_

_Doesn't matter if it's wrong or right…_

_I really need you tonight."_

_--Backstreet Boys_

            The phone rang loudly close to her ear. Buffy's eyes shot open, as she was jolted out of her sleep. She groaned, retreating even further into the comfort of her warm blankets. She closed her eyes again, hoping that if she wished hard enough, the ringing would stop.

            Her hopes were dashed when the phone continued to ring persistently, despite all of her efforts to make it stop without actually picking up the receiver. She peeked open one eye long enough to assess that it was nearing eleven in the morning. She hugged her pillow closely to her chest, trying to figure out when exactly she had fallen asleep the previous night. Groggily, she realized that she had fallen asleep in the living room while researching with Angel. How she had ended up in her bed, she didn't know, but she suspected from how warm and rested she felt, Angel had something to do with it. Despite all of her scolding to herself, she couldn't help but let a little smile light her lips at the thought of him. Immediately, she forced the smile off of her face, though the warmth continued to spread in her chest. She couldn't think about Angel like that anymore… she had to get over him… or at least come to enough terms with the situation so that she would be able to work comfortably with him. _Like last night…_a voice in her head reminded her. She let a little satisfaction creep into her troubled thoughts, and she felt somewhat reassured. Last night, they had been able to research together into the wee hours of the mornings without anything rash happening… who's to say they couldn't keep it up? _You can never keep it up, Buffy._ Another voice reminded her, _Remember when he came back from Hell? You lasted about a month and then all semblance of control went out the window…_She internally told herself to shut up.

            Another short staccato of a ring finally managed to outdo the last of her patience. Mumbling angrily she picked up the cordless and turned it on.

            "Hello?" She asked, not even attempting to hide the fatigue in her tone.

            "Buffy?" Her Watcher's voice came through.

            "Giles, why are you calling so early in the morning?" She complained, burying herself and the phone back into her comforters.

            There was a pause before he answered in a very British tone, "Buffy… it's almost eleven in Chicago time…"

            She groaned, "I keep Slayer hours, remember? Day – sleep, night – work."

            A small chuckle resounded over the phone line, and she could just see Giles' eyes lighting up with amusement.

            "So, now that you've been able to thoroughly kill my sleep…" She said, "you wanna tell me why you called?"

            "Well," His tone suddenly became very serious, "I've been flipping through some old Watcher's diaries. I searched through the ones that were kept around the time the Klak disappeared…"

            "…And?" She prodded him, "Come on, Giles… let's cut the suspense."

            There was a deep sigh that immediately prompted Buffy's ears to perk a little more. She knew that sigh. It was a sigh that Giles never used unless something was up. "I came across the whole Prophecy… you are not the first Slayer to have dealt with the Klak…"

            "Gee…" She said, uncovering her head and wriggling out of the blankets a little so that she could breathe, "Do I even wanna ask what happened to the last one that tried to stop the Journeyers?"

            "She was able to disband the Journeyers before they could summon the Guardian, thereby avoiding the rest of the Prophecy… I have the rest of it here, if you'd like me to read it to you."

            "No." She shook her head even though she knew he couldn't see her, "It's OK. I know the rest of the Prophecy, Angel and I found it last night with the help of this guy, Alfred, who works in the hotel. We were up researching all last night and found absolutely nothing."

            "Oh…" He sounded a little disappointed. Buffy grinned, knowing that Giles was feeling a little left out. "Anyways," he continued, "The last Slayer who dealt with the Journeyers, killed the leaders of the Klak before the Guardian was summoned."

            "You mean these vampires actually have some semblance of leadership?" She asked, "I'm shocked."

            "This is no joking matter, Buffy." His tone became fatherly, "The Klak are not like ordinary vampires. They… they… do not feed off of humans."

            She rolled her eyes, "What do they feed off of then? Poor defenseless farm animals? Gee—that's sounds really menacing now…"

            "Vampires." He cut her off. "They feed off of other vampires."

            Her eyes went wide as she tried to digest the information. She found herself wincing a bit at his words. Just the thought of it disgusted her. "…Whoa…"

            "Whoa is right." He picked up before she could say anything else, "That's what makes the Klak so strong. They have servants – vampires — who go and collect the blood of humans for them… and then they feed off of these servants… thereby increasing their power. It's almost a hierarchy of blood. This way, they don't have to feed off of so many victims to gain the strength of thousands of humans…"

            "… cause they get their little minions to gather the strength for them." She completed his phrase. "I can't believe this…"

            "There's more." Giles continued, "After the Klak have fed off of the servants… the Mistress and Master of the Journeyers then feed off of the others in the Klak… thereby concentrating all of the strength and power collected from humans and vampires alike into only two beings."

            "Ewwww…" Buffy sighed into the phone, "Just of the thought of vampires feeding off of vampires is disturbing…it's like… vampire incest or something."

            "Buffy, this is very serious." Giles' voice became louder and firmer, "The last Slayer… she killed the Mistress and Master of the Klak before they could carry out the ritual that would bring forth the Guardian. According to what her Watcher has recorded in his diary, had she not been able to kill the Mistress and the Master… all hope would have been lost. She would not have been able stop the Prophecy…"

            "How come?" Buffy asked, "The Prophecy says that even if the Guardian is raised, the Slayer and her Warrior can stop the Elevation with the help of Tith… whatever that is."

            "Exactly." Giles replied, "The Prophecy calls for two players. Not just the Slayer. It is the Slayer _and_ her Warrior. That is why the past Slayer would not have been able to stop the Elevation… she did not have a Warrior…"

            "But I do." Her voice was firm and she sat up in her bed. "I have Angel."

            "How can you be sure that Angel is the one the Prophecy speaks of?" Giles asked, his voice becoming more compassionate, "I mean… I understand that you trust Angel. And he has proven many times to be a skilled fighter and will do all he can to defend the world against evil… but what if that's not enough?"

            "It's him, Giles." She said the words without any doubt, "I know it is. He is my Warrior. I bet my life on it."

            "… you'll have to." His reply was soft, "Because if you are wrong, and he is not the Warrior… all of Humanity will die for it."

            She sighed, rubbing her temples slowly with her fingers, "Trust me, Giles. Angel is the Warrior. We don't have to worry about that part. I need your help on the rest though, to find what Tith is."

            "In the diaries, the Watcher speaks of Tith… He says that it is an ancient weapon, forged millennia ago. It was wielded by the first Slayer against the first Vampire. He does not go into detail as to what kind of weapon it is… but he did say that his Slayer used it to destroy the Master and Mistress." Giles replied, his tone a little worried.

            "What happened to it after that?" Buffy asked.

            "The members of the Klak realized what danger Tith could pose for them… as their last effort before they disbanded, they used all of their strength and cast it into a magical dimension. The Watcher does not know where it is… I doubt even the Klak know in which dimension they have cast it to… there are far too many."

            "Too bad." She replied, "Cause we're gonna hafta find it."

            "…Buffy." His sighed that sigh of his again, "Our best bet right now, is not to find Tith. You must do what the former Slayer did… destroy the new Master and Mistress of the Klak before they can summon the Guardian. The Day of Elevation is a predetermined time and date that only comes around every few centuries… if that day comes and all of the pieces of the Prophecy are not in place, the Elevation can be avoided."

            "Yeah," Buffy said, "Sure… it can be avoided…but until when, Giles?" She asked, "Until a new Master and Mistress rise? Or until the next Day of Elevation rolls around?" She sighed heavily, "No. I wanna finish this. I don't just want to avoid Elevation. I want to stop it. Forever."

            "That's a tall order, Buffy."

            "Then we're going to need a tall solution." She replied, her voice flat, "Please, Giles, I have to do this. You said so yourself… not every Slayer has a Warrior… what if the next time the Day of Elevation comes around, there's no Warrior? Then the world really _would _be screwed. I have to stop it now, when I have the chance."

            "I see your point." Giles sighed dejectedly, his tone showing that he was going to cooperate with her plans, "But I can't help but think this is suicide."

            "Maybe it is." She replied, "But I'll never know 'til I try."

            There was a long silence on the line. Finally, her Watcher gave his reply, "All right. I'll call back as soon as I find anything about a way to summon Tith… meanwhile, be careful."

            "I will, Giles." She said, breathing in deeply, "I promise."

            "Take care, Buffy."

            She sighed, turning off the phone. She stared at it for a few minutes and finally threw it onto her nightstand. She breathed deeply, crawling out of the warmth of the bed. She shivered, already missing its comfort as she walked towards the closet. She took one look at herself in the full-length mirror, and decided that she was in desperate need of a shower. She was still wearing her clothes from the previous night; she had been too tired to change into her pajamas. Her hair was a mess, sitting atop her head like a crown of fur. She groaned, picking out a pair of comfortable jeans and a black turtleneck sweater and bringing them with her into the bathroom.

            The water was hot and soothing as it pounded her tired muscles and massaged her dry skin. She took a deep breath of the warm, damp mist that had accumulated in the shower. She closed her eyes, turning her face up towards the showerhead. The water streamed over her head and slipped soothingly down her neck. It trickled over her eyelids, down her nose, and on her lips. For a moment, she allowed herself an interval of reflection and contemplation. She felt strangely detached.

            She knew that the Klak was a large threat, and possibly the biggest danger she's faced… and yet, she didn't care. A part of her was disturbed by this. She should be scared or anxious. She was supposed to be running around, making preparations and training for the battle that was to come. She was supposed to feel… something…

            But she felt nothing. She was going to give her all in the battle, and fight her best fight… but she didn't care what happened after that. She didn't care if she died, she didn't care if she lived, she didn't care if the world came to an end… and that's what frightened her the most. How was she supposed to protect the world from demons, if she didn't care what happened to it?

            She was the Slayer. But she had fought too many battles, seen too many deaths, and lost too many people. Her heart yearned back for the peace Heaven had brought her. Now, she truly knew why Slayers never lived very long… they just couldn't last. Even if they could physically survive… their emotions and their mind would just cease to function at some point… and then, they would just become mindless fighting machines. _Like me_… the voice slipped into her mind.

            She shook the thought out of her head, scrubbing furiously at her skin with soap until it had become red. She stared at her arms, watching the blood pulsing through her veins, reminding herself that she was truly alive… and that people depended on her. She couldn't give up. Not yet. She still had one more battle to fight, one more demon to kill…

            Her fingers were becoming wrinkly and pink from the shower, and she decided that she was as clean as she was going to get. With a sigh, she turned off the water. For a few moments, she just stood in the hot misty fog that had accumulated during her long shower. Finally, she rolled the sliding door back and grabbed the nearest towel.

            She just needed to concentrate on what was important. The Klak would rise, and the Day of Elevation would come… and she would be ready. Because she was always ready. She had six years of slaying experience behind her, and hours of training stacked up behind that. The determination inside of her finally surfaced and she felt a sense of conviction… the world needed her. Again. And she would be there to save it. Again. If she could face a god, then she certainly could take on a few vampires and a demon…

            … And this time, she didn't have to do it alone. This time, she had Angel to help her. Again, her thoughts wandered back to him. She wanted to deny that the last three years had happened… she wanted to just pretend that everything was still the same. That he didn't leave. But she knew he had. And she knew he would again. That was the way it worked. They were doomed from the beginning, and they would always be doomed no matter what the circumstances. She couldn't have him and he couldn't have her.

            But that didn't stop her heart from hurting whenever he was near. And it didn't stop the blood from rushing to her head whenever he touched her. And it didn't stop her lips from wanting the feel of his skin whenever she looked at him. It wasn't fair. But then again, nothing was ever fair. She couldn't let herself get attached again. She couldn't let him get to her. She couldn't fall in love with him…

            _Of course not,_ that persistent voice told her matter-of-factly, _you can't fall in love with him… cause you never fell out of love with him. You know it, you idiot, you're still head over heels for him and you can't do anything about it. You need him. He completes you… he is your soulmate. He's the only thing that's keeping you from taking that stake of yours and plunging it into your own damn heart right now. And he needs you too…_

            With that thought, she quickly dressed herself in the clothes she had picked out earlier. She walked back out into her bedroom, picking up her brush and slipping on her black leather boots.

            She grabbed two key cards off of her nightstand. One was her own; the other was the one Angel had given her the previous night in exchange for a copy of her own key. At the time, they had convinced themselves they were doing it strictly for safety reasons… to make sure either one of them could access both rooms at all times. But deep down inside, she knew why she had really given him a copy of her key… because she wanted to show him that she still trusted him. That he still had every access to her no matter what… that she would always be there for him…

            She didn't even bother with the elevator and instead took the stairs. In a matter of seconds, she had descended one flight and come out on the eleventh floor. With a sigh, she walked towards 1140, hoping that Angel would be in his room. She wasn't sure why she was going to see him… she just knew that she needed him at that moment. There was an emptiness inside of her that she knew only he could fill.

*          *          *

            A familiar weight on the mattress and the feel of a small hand gently shaking his arm brought Angel out of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyelids, squinting in the darkness to make out the figure that sat on his bed. He blinked a few times, pressing his lips together to try to fight through the grogginess that muddled his mind. He took in a deep unneeded breath, letting the air wake his dead sense.

            "Wake up, sleepyhead." The light, playful tone in her voice was a little strained, almost forced.

            He looked up at her, finding her eyes in the darkness. "Buffy…" He breathed. Immediately, he forced the restraints in his mind to take over so that he didn't sound too needy when he spoke again. "Is it nighttime already?"

            She shook her head, crossing her legs and shifting her position on the mattress, "No. It's still day… almost noon."

            Mentally, he did the calculations and decided that he had gotten four hours of sleep… he'd done worse before. "What's up?" He asked. He propped himself up with this elbows.

            "Giles called… he's been reading through those old diaries of his again." She rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue, "Anyways. He gave me the 411 on the Journeyers."

            He raised an eyebrow, using his arms to pull himself up into a sitting position. He leaned his back against the headboard, willing her to keep going.

            "They're really one sick group of vamps…" She sighed, playing with the fabric of his sheets with her fingers. "They feed off of other vampires…"

            Angel swallowed, fighting back the metallic taste that immediately came to his mouth. He winced back slightly, trying to not to feel reviled. He'd only ever tasted vampire blood once, and that was when he was turned… it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

            Buffy was watching his facial expression and she chuckled, "Yeah, I had the same reaction." She reassured him. "Anyways, it turns out you were right about Tith. It is a weapon… but the Klak threw it into some magical dimension a couple centuries ago… they knew that it was dangerous to them."

            "A magical dimension?" He asked, looking at her, "Wow… that's going to be a hard. Any idea how we can find it?"

            She shook her head, "Nope. No clue." She replied, "Giles is on it. I think we should maybe ask for Alfred's help too. He's got a lot of books here. I was thinking we need to go out and patrol, see if we can figure out where the Klak is holed up."

            He nodded. Nervously, he looked over at the window, seeing the little bit of sunlight that was still penetrating through the curtains. "What did you have in mind…" He asked, indicating the window, "It's still light out… that sorta poses a problem for those of us who are undead…"

            She looked over at the window, staring a few moments. She blinked a few times, and then returned her gaze to him, "Oh… right…"

            He furrowed his eyebrows, sensing that she had an ulterior motive. It wasn't like her to get sloppy and forget simple things like vampires couldn't go out in the sunlight… she had come for a different reason. He just needed to figure out what it was.

            "Well…" She recovered from her lapse quickly, "I—I wanted train. There's supposed to be an old hidden room somewhere in the hotel… it was where the old Slayer used to train… when there was a Slayer in Chicago. Anyways, it's supposed to be majorly well-equipped. I thought I'd go check it out… and I sorta need someone to spot me."

            _That was a legitimate answer…_He told himself. He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "All right." He replied, "As long as there aren't any big windows in this training room of yours… I'll go with you."

            Her smile showed a mixture of relief, excitement, and content. "OK then." She got up off the mattress and began to pace around his small hotel room.

            He watched her jittery figure for a few moments, "Buffy…" He finally said.

            She stopped immediately, her head jerking up to meet his gaze. For a few seconds, he saw a mixture of confusion and fear before it was masked by a wall of indifference.

            "Are you all right?" He asked. He got up, unraveling himself from the sheets. "You seem a little distracted…"

            "Hmmm?" She asked, running her fingers through her still damp hair. His keen senses could smell her shampoo and he guessed that she had just finished showering. "I'm fine… just… you know… raring to go. I wanna train."

            "No." He said, shaking his head, "That's not it…"

            She breathed in deeply and then met his gaze squarely, "No… it's not." She finally admitted. She folded her hands demurely in front of her. "It's… not. But… it's something that I can't - that I don't want to- talk about right now." Her eyes became pleading, "Please, Angel… just understand. Just… train with me?"

            He blinked a few times, shocked at her confession. It had been so long since they had ever been straight to each other about their problems. The walls had come down and he could see into her soul. Her eyes were so full of pleading and fatigue… and pain. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, make her tell him so that he could fix it… but that look in her eyes stopped him. She didn't want to talk… not yet. There was a deep need and yearning in her eyes. A yearning that he found was also mirrored in his own soul. She needed him at that moment. Not to listen, or to comfort her, or to protect her… she needed just _him_.

            "Yeah…" He finally said, gently clasping her hand in his, "All right." He smiled down at her, "Let's train…"

*          *          *

            "You look happier, my sweet." He purred into her ear, his breath cold and dead against her neck, "I assume Fiore came back with good news…"

            She grinned maliciously, turning around slowly in his arms to face him. "He has found the One for us…" She replied, "The rest of our Klak will arrive within the next few days… with their strength, we will summon the Guardian. From there, it will only be a matter of time before our Elevation arrives."

            He smiled, nibbling viciously at her earlobe, then moving down her neck. "Good." His voice was little more than a whisper, "The day of our Elevation draws near, we must make sure everything is in place when it is time." He ran a cool finger slowly over her cheeks and towards her thin, drawn lips, "This time, my dear Celeste… nothing will stop us."

            She let a small moan that was half-sigh and half-giggle. "Oh, it will be interesting…" She raised an eyebrow, "The Slayer and her Warrior are both here… they must have been summoned here by Them." She pointed a finger towards the sky and smiled demurely.

            "They cannot stop us." He countered her, letting his hand drop from her face. He walked slowly away from her, tracing a circle around her as he spoke. "They have neither the strength, nor the power to summon Tith…"

            "… and without Tith, they are useless." She finished his sentence for him. "This time, we will not be stopped. We are stronger than those that came before us… we will not fail this time."

            He stopped in mid-step, watching her through hooded eyes, "My sweet Mistress Celesta, we will truly rule the World."

            She giggled, walking towards him. She ran her fingers down his chest, tempting him with a small wink, "My dearest Master Seth, I do believe you are right."

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


	10. Chapter Ten

**~*Ten*~**

_"It doesn't matter what I want,_

_It doesn't matter what I need…_

_Doesn't matter if I cry,_

_Don't matter if I bleed…"_

_-- Alison Krauss & Union Station_

            She performed a back handspring over the vault, landing squarely on her feet. She whirled, her body immediately falling into the fighting stance. She was ready to face whatever obstacle was ahead. Almost on second instinct, she blocked the punch that came towards her face. She struck out with her leg, moving to trip her opponent.

            He anticipated this and jumped over her sweeping leg. He kicked out with his left leg as he came back towards the ground, catching her square in the chest. She stumbled back a few paces, but still held her ground.

            Buffy whirled around, delivering a swift roundhouse kick followed by a sharp right jab. Her body hummed with life and adrenaline. Strands of her long, silky blond hair had fallen out from the originally very neat ponytail. She grinned as her strike hit its mark and Angel rolled with the blow.

            He was up again within seconds. He struck out quickly with his left arm and then followed immediately by a sharp thrust with his right.

            She moved to block his first hit but did not anticipate the second. She was caught off guard and took the hit in the shoulder. She could feel his body thrumming with exertion and strength. Her own body responded with its own frequency. Her muscles were relaxed and warmed up, humming with sweat and life. She quickly fell into a back walkover, kicking him twice in the chin as she came around for the recovery. Packing as much power she could into her jump, she pushed off the ground with her legs. Her body flowed directly into an aerial over his head, her legs flailing out dangerously. She landed almost immediately.

            Angel whirled around to meet her. Before she could regain her footing, he struck at her with a side kick aimed at her stomach.

            She turned, presenting the least amount of surface area to his attack as possible. She let out a small "oomph" but held her ground. She resumed the fighting stance and waited for his next move.

            He watched her with a dark, intent gaze. His eyes revealed nothing of what his next move would be. He licked his lips slowly and then dropped to the floor, thrusting his leg out to trip her.

            She jumped quickly, and then bent over, waiting until her hands touched the floor. She pushed off the ground with her fingers, blocking her shoulders strongly and snapping her legs over. She came out of the handspring and found herself facing Angel's back. Taking the opportunity, she kicked him viciously in the lower back.

            Taken by surprise, he fell to the ground. Even before he could hit the floor, he twisted his body around so that he was facing upwards. He rolled several feet away from her, recovering to get back onto his feet.

            Before he could get the chance, she was on top of him. Grabbing the nearest thing to her, which ended up being a water bottle, she moved in for the kill. She stopped with her hand positioned only inches away from his chest. She wielded the water bottle as if it were a stake. She was straddled over him, her legs pinning his down to the floor. Her free arm was thrust sharply against his shoulder, grinding it to the floor and preventing any attempt on his part to get up.

            They were both breathing heavily. She was, because she needed to catch her breath. He was, just because he enjoyed the feeling air in his dead lungs. Buffy took in a few more gulps of air, a smirk passing over her expression. "I can still pin you." She said, letting herself be a little smug.

            He grinned. He let his head fall back down to the mat and he chuckled, "Yes, you can… you're still pretty sharp."

            "I should hope so!" She replied indignantly. She let up a little, flipping the water bottle over in her hand. She released his shoulder to use her other hand to unscrew the cap to the bottle. She took several long drinks before pulling the container away from her lips and recapping it. She looked at him from her position on top of him, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having him under her power.

            "You wanna let me up now?" He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

            She raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to one side in contemplation. "Well, I was thinking about it…" She replied sincerely, pursing her lips. "But now that you've asked… I think I'm quite comfortable having you under me." Immediately after the words slipped from her mouth, she felt the deep blush beginning to rise in her cheeks. She grabbed the water bottle again, taking another long drink, hoping that it would hide her embarrassment.

            He didn't say anything. He only watched her with that same intent gaze, a half-smile pasted over his lips. She observed him from the corner of her eye. He lay complacently on the ground, his arms still crossed over his bared chest. His body felt cool and firm beneath her, attesting to his non-livelihood. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him and she forced her eyes off of his broad shoulders. She was very aware that he was staring at her, and it made her feel slightly self-conscious.

            She tucked a few unruly strands of hair behind her ear and grinned at him, "All right, I'll let you go…" She finally said, rolling off of him. In one fluid motion, she was back on her feet and so was he. She set the water bottle down on the floor, pulling on her black tank top to readjust it. "You wanna go again?" She asked.

            He shrugged, "Up to you. This is your training session."

            She tore her eyes away from his tall figure and looked towards the balance beam, "I was thinking of working on some inner balance techniques."

            "Sure." He walked towards the beam. On the way, he picked up his discarded shirt from the ground and slipped it over his head. Inwardly, she let out a sigh of relief… at least that was one less distraction for her. He laid one hand on the beam and half-turned to look at her.

            She took a few quick steps towards the beam, using the momentum to spring her into her mount. She was on the beam within seconds, her legs straddled in a wolf position. She stood up, walking towards the end of the beam nonchalantly.

            Once she reached the end, she kicked her leg up, falling into a backwards aerial. Her feet landed surely back onto the four-inch wide piece of equipment that she was working on. Angel stood back and watched her. He was just close enough to catch her if she lost her balance, but just far away enough that he wouldn't get in the way.

            She twirled around on one leg, performing a 360. Then very slowly, she reached towards the beam. Her hands found the smooth surface immediately, grabbing onto it firmly. With as much control as she could muster, she slowly kicked her legs up. She put just enough force into the kick so that her legs would go up, but not too much so that she would go over. Gradually, her legs moved up until they were completely vertical. She made sure to square her shoulders to offer a sturdier support. She let her neck relax and her head hung loosely down. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the balance she had attained.

            Her breathing slowed and she felt her heartbeat become more regular. She stayed in that position for several seconds. Finally, without a warning, she pushed off with her hands. She snapped the lower half of her body and arched it up and over the beam. Without even a second thought, her feet landed squarely on the mat below. She sighed, rolling her neck from side to side. She turned to look at her companion and found Angel observing her with her water bottle extended towards her with one arm.

            "Not bad." He commented, leaning his back against the support offered by the beam.

            She couldn't help but smile. Compliments about her training were very rare from him and it felt good to know that she hadn't slipped in the last few years. She could feel the blood pounding through her veins and to her head. Her body felt so free and relaxed, all of her muscles were thrumming from the workout. She sighed, also leaning back against the beam as she took the water bottle from his hand. "That was fun." 

            He nodded, "Frees up the spirit." He glanced at her, "Feel any better?"

            Buffy hesitated, staring at the bottle in her hand. Slowly she nodded, "Yeah… much better."

            He smiled, "That's good."

            She returned his smile, feeling for the first time in months, like she was totally satisfied with her training for the day. Sparring with Angel had always been intense. He was arguably as strong as she was; he was a good match for her. They could second guess each other and anticipate what would come next, which provided an even greater challenge. When she sparred with him, she didn't hold anything back. She knew that he did the same for her. It wasn't the same as sparring with Giles… or when she had sparred with Riley. When she was with Angel, she had to give it her all, or else she would be defeated. Her body was perfectly attuned to his, and every little thing he did, from a twitch of his fingers to a movement of his eyebrow - she knew it and felt it. It was more of a dance than a fight. Sometimes, she would give, sometimes he would. They traded blows but also traded touches. All the while, in perfect harmony with one another.

It was the closest she could ever get to him. And it was the closest she ever let anyone else to her.

A deep sigh from him brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up sharply.

He was watching her again, and this time his eyes betrayed concern.

            She smiled, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm good, Angel." She replied to his un-voiced question. "Thanks for the fight…"

            He nodded silently, though he never removed his eyes from her.

            She looked at the ground, putting her water bottle down next to the beam. She searched for something to talk about. "Um… how's the shoulder?" She finally asked, looking at him.

            He raised an eyebrow, "It's fine." He replied, "I… I heal fast…"

            She nodded, cutting him off by turning away from him. Those words brought with them a slew of unbidden memories – memories that she didn't need to be thinking about. She walked away from him towards the opposite wall. She put her palms flat up against the tiles and stretched. The silence behind was comforting but unnerved her slightly.

            She could feel him moving behind her. She knew, even without turning around, that he had moved close to her.

            "Buffy…" His voice was gentle and soft, "What's going on?"

            She sighed, continuing to keep her back towards him. "I don't know, Angel. I don't. I wish I did." She stared at the wall in front of her, suddenly becoming very interested in the tiles. She tried to concentrate on their brownish-tannish color, and soon found them to be boring and useless.

            "What do you mean?"

            She shrugged, "I… I thought that I had everything figured out, you know? I thought that I had finished organizing all my emotions and thoughts into nice little labeled bins in my brain… And then… and then you come along. And you just throw all the bins on the floor and mix them all together. And now – now I don't know what to feel… cause you've torn off all my labels."

            "I know…" He finally said, "It's—it's confusing…"

            She turned to face him, "It's more than confusing…" She breathed, "It's unbearable."

            A pained expression flickered over his face at her words and he looked away for a moment. For some reason, she had hit a mark. A strange sense of dejá vu flooded her mind but she ignored it. He swallowed slowly before looking back at her. He didn't say anything.

            "But we have to bear right?" She finally responded for him, "Cause… that's just the way it is." She sidestepped him, walking back towards the center of the room and leaving him to face the wall. She picked up the water bottle again and began to finger it slowly. "I… I know I said we were going to leave the past behind in California." She shook her head, laughing with a short staccato, "But there are some things that just seem to keep following us around wherever we go." She closed her eyes, her hand clenching tightly against the beaten plastic of the bottle. "…And I'm so… sick of it."

            "Buffy…"

            She turned towards him, "Don't." She said, shaking her head, "Don't say my name like that – like you care…"

            "I do care, Buffy!" He replied, walking towards her with long strides.

            "No." She made her voice firm, "I can't do this, Angel. This has happened too many times already. It's just too hard."

            "Don't you think that it's hard for me too?" He came to her, stepping in close to her. He was so near… all she had to do was lean in one more step and she would be touching him. "Just seeing you… seeing how you've grown and how you've matured. You… you fill me, Buffy. You overload my senses and you make my thoughts swim… you make me stutter and stumble – you always have, you always will."

            She let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore all the feelings that were welling up inside of her from his words. "It doesn't matter." She replied steadily, "None of that matters – does it." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

            "Of course it does… I'm – I'm not asking for what we had, Buffy. I just want to be close to you, to talk to you, to confide in you… I'm here for you. You don't have to be alone."

            "Yes…" Her voice was barely a whisper, "I do." She drew away from him. Very slowly, she turned and walked away. "I do." She closed her eyes and felt hot tears behind her eyelids, "Because… this can't ever work. It never has… it never will." She turned back to face him, her eyes capturing his. "Can you look at me, Angel, and tell me honestly and truthfully that when this is all over – when the bad guys are gone, and the fighting is done – after all that… can you tell me that you won't walk away? That you won't go back to LA and I won't go back to Sunnydale? Tell me that you won't leave again." She stared at him, reading his mind and his thoughts through his eyes. Her face was hard and impassive and her voice was flat and unemotional.

            There was a tight moment of silence as the two former lovers stared the truth in the face.

            Finally, he blinked slowly and swallowed. He looked away, taking a few steps back and away from her. A slow, dull, familiar pain began to spread in her chest but she ignored it. She watched as he withdrew from her. She wanted to stop him, wanted to reach out to him and grab him before he could take another step… but she knew that she couldn't.

            "See…?" She could barely find her voice, and she was surprised that it wasn't wavering, "This is how it works with us. Nothing's changed. And there's nothing we can do about it."

            He breathed deeply and she watched his chest rise for a moment and fall back. Finally, he nodded, "Yeah." His voice cracked, "I know. This is how it's gotta be."

            She nodded, staring off at the wall to avoid looking at him, "We'll make it though… we will…. Cause we don't have any other choice." The tears were too close now. They threatened to fall any minute. She couldn't look at him. She knew that if she did, she'd only regret having done what she did. She knew that if she looked at him, she'd only see the pain and anguish that was already mirrored within her own heart.

            So instead, she turned around. Willing her feet to move, she walked away from him. The moment she was out of his sight, she ran as far and as fast with all the strength she could muster. She didn't know where she was going… but the tears were hot and sticky as they trailed down her cheeks.

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Did you like what you read? If so, please e-mail me at fern_lily@hotmail.com or review and leave your e-mail address… I will add you to the mailing list and e-mail you when I update. Please be sure to tell me you want to be added to the list when you review or e-mail! ~*Lelila*~


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